Soulless
by lizardmm
Summary: After being released from prison, Faith has remained in Los Angeles to continue to seek her redemption. How will the dark slayer react, however, when an unexpected ghost from her Sunnydale past shows up in LA? Set during Season 6
1. Chapter 1

Soulless

Buffy's dead. Again. But when Willow does the unthinkable, Faith is forced to choose between

Chapter 1: SlippingSuggested Listening: Muse – "Time is Running Out"/"Fury"/ "Feeling Good"POV Faith

There's something about music that sets me free. I think it all comes from having a shitty home life, ya know? No matter what was going on in the next room, I could just plug into my stereo and drown out the outside world by assailing my eardrums with anything that had a crunchy guitar and bass line. Like Beyonce sings, _"I think I'm in love with my radio."_

Mom would come stomping down the hallway of our trailer-trash house in Southie, pounding on the door for me to turn it down. She finally let me get a lock on my bedroom door when I not-so-subtly hinted that her "boyfriends" skeeved me out. "What the hell are you listening to, firecracker?" she'd demand – that is, when she wasn't too high to actually form words.

"Garbage," I'd say, pointing to the pink CD case. You'd be surprised how easy it is to shoplift when you've got dimples like these.

"You can say that again," she'd say with a proud smirk. "Get it? Garbage?" she'd crow loudly. I'd give a fake laugh for her benefit like she didn't use that same line on me over and over again.

Music was my escape. Music was my portal. For some people, I guess books are like that. Gettin' lost and shit in other worlds. But I wasn't ever really big on school - so music was my gateway. I even once entertained the idea of joining a band. Makin' it big. Gettin' the hell outta Boston and the effing cold East Coast. See the world. Live it up. Live fast. Die young.

But I suppose there's still time for that. Especially the "dying young" part.

So it's no surprise that when I'm not kicking demon ass here in Los Angeles, I'm shakin' my finally crafted one on the dance floor of any club close enough to that night's cemetery of choice. Angel and I have a little agreement. As long as I show up at the Hyperion at a respectable hour for daily debriefing, my life is mine to do as I please – which is why most nights after patrol, I find my way back to any dance floor where the liquor's flowing and the music's loud.

Sure I'll hang out with Soulboy's gang for a laugh once in a while – you should see the kids go "wild" at demon karaoke. But really, I never was one for the group outings – my time in Sunnydale should be evidence enough of that. Angel knows how I work. He even lets me skip outta research, too. Just give me a weapon and point me in the direction of the evil thing that needs killin'. That's me. Faith the Vampire Slayer.

And yeah, I get curious once in a while wondering how _She's _doing in Sunnyhell. But never curious enough to go back. I'm not that much of a sado masochist. Besides…they know where to find me if they need me. But with Buffy Summers at the helm, fat chance of them ever needing Faith Lehane.

A voice shatters my internal musings and I look up from my pint long enough to admire the face that's grinning at me like she knows why I'm here: pussy and beer.

"I've seen you before."

Tonight, I'm at one of my usual haunts – some pseudo-goth LA club where they don't check my ID or stare too hard at my dark makeup and tight leather pants. Plus they're always crankin' the NIN and that's A-okay with me.

I look away from the woman's confident leer and absentmindedly run the tips of my black-polished fingernails up the side of my pint glass, collecting the condensation. I can feel her lean in a little closer, as though she's afraid her voice got lost in the din of the crowded bar. Her breath feels heavy on my skin, and her hair smells surprisingly sweet like a bar of hotel soap.

"I've seen you before," she repeats just a little more loudly this time, enunciating each word with perfect diction like she's from the Midwest.

When I finally look up and meet her surprisingly lavender eyes, she smiles with something that resembles confidence. It's slightly disarming. I usually make people nervous, not the other way around.

Her face is angular, but not in an unpleasant way. Since she's seated on a barstool like myself, I can't immediately appreciate the slight curves and dips of her boyish frame. But there will be time for that later. The various barbells and studs that travel the length of both her ears and her left eyebrow gleam against the overhead strobe lights. Her blonde hair is flat-ironed and falls just to the tops of her shoulders. Just the length I imagine…I mentally shake my head. "Stop thinking about Her, Lehane," I silently chastise myself.

"You're usually dancing," she notes, her head nodding in the direction of the dance floor. I'm mildly surprised that she hasn't taken my silence so far as rejection. I let my eyes follow her trajectory and gaze upon the mass of bodies heaving and pulsating in the small club. I'm normally at the epicenter of that growling, desperate monster – my dark eyes closed, a half-smile on my lips, letting myself get lost to the throbbing vibrations of excessive bass.

I know the girl is trying hard to impress me or at least get in my pants, so I remain silent. No need to let the regulars think that Faith Lehane is an easy catch. She's leaning in a little closer now. Ballsy this girl is; I'll give her that. Her fingertips brush against the hand that continues to hold my beer, and she rasps thickly, "I like watching the way you move your body."

I move my hand back slowly and sit up a little straighter on my barstool, so we're no longer familiarly touching. I don't jerk it back hastily though like she's electrocuted me – don't want her thinkin' I might not be Family.

I stare hard into those purple eyes and take a slow pull from my pint, looking at her feminine face over the top of my beer glass. I set the mug carefully down on the bar-top - slowly, deliberately - and pass my tongue lazily across my thick lips.

She's waiting for me to say something. Waiting for my reaction. But she'll have to wait a little longer.

The skin on the back of my neck suddenly prickles – my Slayer senses are going outta control like I just stumbled across a vamp nest. My dark eyes leave her pale, sallow face and I scan the room quickly in an attempt to pinpoint where the vampires might be hiding. It wouldn't be surprising if this place turned out to be crawlin' with the undead. These goth-types always seem to have a vampire fetish or something.

I sit up a little straighter on my bar stool and scan the darkened club for signs of the undead. When I look back on all of this one day, I'm sure I'll say it was Fate. But amongst all the dark hair, pale skin, and leather, a flash of familiar sun-bleached locks catches my eye and I stand up abruptly from my seat at the bar. I don't know how I managed to spot Her through all the chaos of the crowded club, but I do.

The lavender-eyed girl takes it as an invitation, rather than a rejection, and stands up eagerly as well. She's still got that damn cocky grin on her lips. And as much as I'd like to discover from where this confidence sprouts, I've got another blonde girl on my mind. Hell. She's the _only_ girl whose ever been able to consume my thoughts.

"It can't be," I find myself muttering aloud. It feels like I've got magnets in my leather pants and I'm being drawn to its opposite as I'm pulled by an unknown force across the small hardwood floor. A surprisingly strong hand grasps my shoulder blade and pulls me back to reality, however.

"Where you going to so soon?" the innocuous blonde lightly teases in an attempt to reign me back in. I can tell from the look on her face that she realizes something's made me quickly lose interest in her. I effectively wriggle out of her grasp, subtly enough so she can't see how much human touch makes my skin crawl. I glance fleetingly back at the dance floor and then back into those searching purple eyes.

"Can't stay," I say gruffly, my first words to her, and I rake my fingers through my dark brunette tresses.

Her eyes narrow slightly and her bottom lip ever-so-subtly is exposed in a kind of pout. Not as well rehearsed as the Original Blonde's bratty pout, however, I muse to myself. But I can tell the woman standing before me is used to getting her way.

"I see a friend," I explain flatly, slightly shuffling away.

She grabs one of my hands in hers. It's hot, yet dry. "_I_ could be a friend," she purrs suggestively.

Alright, so Purple-Eyes is a little needy, I've decided. What _is it_ with women?

I can hear her monosyllabic protest as I wretch my hand free from her tight grasp and I spin on my chunky heels without offering another word of explanation or excuse. I keep moving and don't ever look back.

"It can't be her," I chant under my breath, moving nearer to the dancing masses.

I maneuver my way none-too-gently through the crowded dance floor, earning me half a dozen death stares from the club's patrons. I'm jostled by a clumsy goth couple who slam into me, so I push right back. Before I realize it, the dance floor has turned into a mosh pit. It'll be a while before I'm welcomed back to this bar. Bodies move frenetically, vibrating with energy. The raw sexuality and violence of this place is intoxicating.

But then I stop my pursuit and my breath hitches in my throat when I see her. _Her._

Although she's just barely over five feet tall, she might as well be double that the way she commands the space in which she now stands. Correction. The space in which she…grinds?

She hasn't changed a bit, which is surprising to me for some reason. Her hair's a little shorter than I remember, a little blonder in this light. It's been a while – a couple of years at least – since I last saw her on top of Angel's rooftop. And since that time, she's died once more saving the world, and I suffered through prison.

"_I wonder if I look any different to her," _I silently muse as I continue to stare at her unnoticed. I pause and absentmindedly touch a stray lock of my wild tresses. I've let my hair grow long since Sunnydale. Not exactly high fashion hair salons in prison. I nervously smooth my palms over the front of my form-fitting red top and re-adjust the black belt and heavy metal belt-buckle that rests atop my black leather pants.

The way she's moving that small, tight frame of hers in time with the crunching music makes me almost wish I'd gone to see her in Sunnydale when I first got outta jail. Hell, I don't think she even knows I'm a free woman now. But then again, if she had ever bothered to visit me in prison, she woulda been more in the loop.

Girlfriend looks like she's learned to live it up. Or at least that stick's not jammed so far up her ass as it once was. I can't help the way my own body begins to sway in time with the music and I become drawn into her tangled web even from this distance. And of course I wouldn't be disappointed if my fist just happened to go through the thick skull of the idiot she's currently grinding on.

"Of all the clubs in the world…" I find myself muttering aloud.

A sudden surge of self-importance flushes over me. I've been out of prison for a while now. I've been fighting the good fight. Who does Blondie think she is, showin' up in _my town_ unannounced and uninvited?

I can still feel the vibration of vampires all around us. It feels like a feeding frenzy could break out at any moment, and yet the Chosen One is seemingly obvious to everything except the beefcake holding onto her seductively swaying hips. I can't help the bitter smirk that finds its way onto my twisted lips as I stand here just a few feet from her, completely undetected. She always had a thing for those beefy-brainless types.

He's holding her possessively, moving those big beefy hands in all the wrong places. Her black skirt is dangerously short and every time she moves it threatens to reveal the bottom of her pert little ass. I can't believe I'm still standing here staring at them. My own fists are clenched tightly, my closely manicured nails biting into the palms of my hands.

I watch uselessly as Manmeat leans down, brushing a few blonde strands out of the way so he can whisper something in her ear. I strain my own Slayer-hearing, but all I can make out is one word: Outside.

She's giggling like a lunatic, and batting those thick eyelashes at him like some goddamn damsel in distress. I don't know what she's playing at, unless she finally realizes what I've known all along. Dude is a vampire.

I follow them as closely and quietly as I can without risking having her catch me as she and the Incredible Hulk lumber out the hidden back entrance to the club. I hesitate for just a moment inside with my palms flat against the metallic service entrance doors. It suddenly occurs to me that I'm not really sure why the hell I'm following her outside like this. The Great Blonde One can certainly handle herself, so why am I followin' like an overly concerned and obedient puppy dog?

When I finally push out the heavy doors, I hear scuffling and muffled cries coming from around the corner of the back alley. Maybe I should be worried, but I know Princess can handle herself.

"Ya slippin', Blondie?" I call out into the darkness. My thick boots echo against the dark pavement as I go in search of her. "Cause I could smell that vamp even over all the B.O. in that dank club," I taunt.

What I see next when I turn the corner causes me to halt in my confident and cocky swagger.

Ya see, when I first stepped out into that dark alley, I half expected to see Buffy bein' duped by some LA vamp. Ya know, like maybe they're craftier than the Sunnydale variety. The other part of me expected to see her wailin' on some unsuspectin' vamp who thought he was gettin' a free meal. Plus girlfriend's damn sexy when she's slaying the undead. I wouldn't have minded the view.

But what I see instead…what I see…her _doing_…I'll never be able to erase from my memory. The lighting's not so bright in the back alley, but even through the darkness I know what I see. My childhood might have been disturbing, but this is one event I'll never be able to repress.

Buffy's got her face buried in the guy's neck. And from the way his body is shaking and from the tell-tale gurglin' noises comin' outta his throat, I'm guessing girlfriend's not just leaving behind a hickey. This is a love bite of a totally different color.

Even in this lighting and from this distance I can see the jagged bumps that have morphed her normally angelic features into something indescribably evil. Seeing her like this makes me want to vomit all over my heavy boots, but I somehow manage to keep it together, albeit I'm still staring helplessly like a giant idiot.

When she's had her fill, she snaps her head up from her mangled prey and lets the lifeless, hulking form crumble soundlessly to the wet pavement. She steps over the new corpse, her high-heels clicking on the ground as she begins to narrow the distance between us. Her shoes echo against the silence of twilight. The tip of her pink tongue snakes out of her mouth to collect the excess blood that's gathered there.

"Sorry, Faithie," she purrs in an all-too-familiar voice. "But _you_ might be the one slipping."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

"To be born again," sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, "first you have to die." Salman Rushdie – The Satanic Verses

**Flashback: Three months earlier… **

"I don't understand," the teen girl whined emphatically. "Why can't you just _heal _her, Willow? You brought her back to life once before _and _you healed her when….when Warren shot her."

The redheaded witch looked up from the Slayer's broken body with pain in her eyes. "She's died too many times," Willow stated simply before returning her gaze to the hospitalized blonde woman.

"Wha-what?" the younger Summers girl sputtered in confusion.

Willow rung her hands and twisted them in front of her body. "Even Magic has its limits, Dawnie," she sighed. "It's kind of like…three strikes and you're out." The woman frowned and closed her eyes. "We've got to find another way."

"It can't seriously end like this," Xander stated, his voice naively hopeful. "Buffy couldn't be bested by just some ordinary, run-of-the mill demons."

Tubes ran up the slight Californian's nose and down her throat; an oxygen machine was the only thing aiding the slayer's breathing, as she was unable to take complete breaths herself. Her lungs had been virtually crushed and the Sunnydale surgeons had been unable to completely repair the damage that had been done.

"Spike," the English Watcher spat angrily at the undead creature who currently shared the hospital room with the Scoobies and an unconscious Buffy, "tell us again _exactly _what happened."

The ancient vampire scowled sourly at the tweed-suited man. "Like I told you 'heros' all before," he began slowly. "I just happened upon the great Blonde One in the cemetery. Wasn't followin' her, if that's what you're thinking," he quickly defended himself. "She was fightin' a nasty bunch of demons all on her own. There were too many though, even for her." His jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth together. "I was too late," he rasped, his voice rough and full of emotion. "I'm always too late."

_**Present Day….**_

Faith stared in amazement at the undead figure in front of her. "You look just like her," she breathed.

Buffy stood with her hands on her small hips, her former dance partner now just a forgotten snack, crumpled on the solid pavement.

"That's because I _am _her, Faithy," the demon cooed. "I have all her memories, all that annoyingly snarky banter." The blonde creature shook her head with disgust. "I even add inappropriate "y's" to the end of words. Was she always so vapid?"

The brunette continued to stand perfectly still like a mouse about to be swallowed whole by a boa constrictor. Her large brown eyes never left the small blonde form a few yards away. "You're a vampire," the Boston girl stated flatly, but the amazement and horror were apparent in her dark chocolate eyes.

Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. "No one's perfect."

She flashed the dark slayer a cheeky grin. "In fact, you might like me even _more _now knowing that. Your tight-assed Buffy certainly couldn't be have been half as fun as I am now," she grinned.

The sound of low growls emanated from the darkest of shadows in the dimly lit alley. Faith could feel the vampires all around her. Nearly half a dozen vamped-out demons stalked out of the darkness, their yellow eyes trained on the Boston slayer's disciplined body.

"Mmmm…speaking of fun…" the vampire-slayer purred. "Faithy, have you met my _new _Scooby crew? Had to get myself an upgrade." Her voice oozed with sexuality as though just the anticipation of violence was an aphrodisiac.

Faith looked around anxiously, quickly adding up her disadvantage as more and more menacing vampires poured into the confined alley. "Had to recruit an Army to kill me, huh, B?" she snarled, morphing her body into a defensive pose. She clenched her hands into small fists, ready to lash out at the first attacker. "Always knew you couldn't take me on by yourself."

"Oh, Faithy," the undead vampire sing-songed, smiling broadly at the Boston-born girl. "I'm not here to _kill _you, baby," she purred. "I'm here to _turn you."_

Flashback

"You can't be _serious_, Witch," growled the bleach-blonde vampire. "Have you lost your bloody marbles? Buffy would _never _want that."

The redheaded woman frowned and crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. After vigilantly staying by the small slayer's bedside for numerous consecutive hours, Giles, Dawn, and Xander had reluctantly wandered off to find nourishment. Only Willow and Spike remained behind.

"I thought you would jump at the idea, Spike," Willow pouted bitterly, offended the soulless vampire had rejected her idea. "You could have her _forever._ That's what you really want, isn't it?"

The vampire narrowed his eyes at the girl. "You don't get it, do you? It won't be _her," _he growled."I'd wager to say I've had a little more experience with this kinda thing than you and your white hats. This is dangerous business, what you're suggesting."

The soulless vampire puffed his chest out and continued. "And as little as you think of me," he snarled. "I'm not in love with her _body. _I'm in love with _Buffy._" He paused purposefully. "And so are you, Witch. You've always loved her. And if you do this, you'll lose her forever."

"That's why I would find her soul!" the girl exclaimed desperately. "I'll restore it just like I've done for Angel time and again."

The ancient vampire scowled at the redhead's persistence. Ever since the others had left Buffy's hospital room, she had been carefully reiterating her plan to him as though he was her most-trusted confident and ally. "There's got to be another way," he insisted.

"We've gone through all the other options, Spike. Buffy's on her 9th life here," the Wicca ruefully countered.

Spike paused to think. "Even if I did agree to it," he considered slowly, rolling the words around on his tongue. "How do you know it'll even work? It's not exactly the traditional way we vampires… do that."

Willow shook her head. "I've put a lot of thought into this. She just has to be close to death; she doesn't have to be nearly drained. And she doesn't need to be conscious so she can drink. She wouldn't have to really _ingest _vampire blood_. _I could put it in her saline drip or I could inject her with a syringe."

Spike looked at the bruised and swollen face of the Chosen One. The vampire watched her labored breathing as the tiny accordion-looking machine rose and fell with each uneven breath. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her battered skin with his stone cold hands.

Spike looked up at the witch when he felt her expectant gaze as she awaited his decision. "She's going to die anyway?" he asked softly.

Willow chewed on her bottom lip. "I-I haven't told Dawn, yet. But it looks that way," she said, her voice a rough whisper. "And if she _does _make it through the next twenty-four hours, the doctors say she'll at least never have the same quality of life as before."

The bleach-blonde vampire continued to stare at the nearly lifeless slayer's defenseless body. Although he knew she was still a Slayer, her blinding vulnerability as she lay in the hospital bed tore his non-beating heart in two. Buffy would have never wanted to be this weak.

Spike opened his mouth, surprised by the words that tumbled out: "What do you need me to do?"

**Present day**

Faith thrust her clenched fist into the lumbering vampire's ridged face, feeling the bones of the creature's nose crunching beneath her sledgehammer-like punch. The giant foe stumbled backwards, its eyes screwed shut, blinded by the assault.

A smaller, faster, young vampire rushed at the Boston slayer, only to be rewarded with a thick, chunky boot square in the stomach. The undead creature doubled over the dark slayer's heavy shoe, groaning out loudly from the impact.

"Out of my way, boys." Buffy grabbed one of her lackeys by the scruff of the neck to clear a path for herself. She effortlessly tossed him backwards, causing the vampire to crash into a solid brick wall. "I'll show you how it's done."

"What's wrong, B?" Faith quipped cockily. She pulled her weapon from the inside lining of her leather jacket and rotated the wooden stake in her right hand. "Your Army of vamps ain't even_ touched_ me yet."

Buffy laughed cruelly, and ran the tip of her pink tongue along her elongated canines. "You don't understand, Faithy," she snickered. "I don't _need _these lackeys. I'm a Slayer _and _a Vampire. I'm more powerful than you could ever imagine."

Faith curled her fingers, silently challenging the undead slayer to attack. "Then let's dance, Blondie."

Buffy grabbed onto the Boston girl's wrist, moving faster than the young slayer anticipated. She smashed the dark-haired woman's clenched hand against a brick wall, causing her hold on her wooden weapon to loosen and the stake to fall to the ground. The vamped out slayer quickly kicked the offending stick out of the way.

"Sorry 'bout that, baby," she smiled wickedly. "But I get itchy around pointy things now-a-days."

Faith pulled her arm free from the vampire's tight grasp and opened and closed her hand, testing the bones to make sure nothing was broken.

"A little sore? I thought you liked it rough," Buffy taunted, punching the girl in the stomach. Faith felt her ribs creak inside her body, bending, but not breaking. She grabbed onto the blonde slayer's wrist before the new vampire could retract her punch. Faith attempted to flip the girl onto her back, but anticipating her move, Buffy performed an effortless front-flip and landed on her feet.

"Getting tired so soon, Faithy? You're breathing a little heavy." The vampire inhaled deeply, the unmistakable scent of the Boston girl's arousal in the air. "Never mind," she grinned. "Now I know why you're outta breath." Buffy clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Been a while since you got some, baby? All wound up and ready to pop?"

Buffy swung her leg out, just barely missing the dark slayer's head in the process. Faith ducked low and rolled out of the way of the strong thigh and calf.

"I can _smell _how turned on you are, Fai. I always knew you wanted me," Buffy jeered as she connected her fist with the side of the Boston girl's face. "And I might have given you a chance if you hadn't killed poor Allan Finch and then everything went to shit. But now _you're _the one with the soul, baby. And I intend to free you of it."

Faith punched wildly at the vampire, trying hard not to be intimidated or affected by the other girl's words, as true as they were.

"Guess you didn't get the memo, Twinkie," Faith retorted as she ducked her head out of the way of a deadly roundhouse. "Shouldn't blame you for bein' outta the loop though – you being dead and all – but I've made my peace about Finch," she revealed with a cocky grin. "Plus I've done my time. I'm not running from anything now."

"But just imagine it, Faithy," Buffy prodded as the two slayers slowly circled each other, looking for signs of weakness. "You and me – together again. The Chosen Two. All you gotta do is give it up – give up this sorry excuse for a life."

Buffy dove forward and pulled her body into a tight ball, rolling forward and jumping up to land solidly on her feet. Before Faith could pause to admire the Californian's newly acquired agility and strength, Buffy grabbed onto the brunette's loose locks in a tight fist and pulled her face dangerously close to her own.

"You'll see. I'm going to make you want it, Fai," she taunted. She pulled the Boston girl's hair harder, making her head wretch to the side, exposing her flawless neck. The undead slayer licked up the smooth skin with the flat of her tongue, causing Faith to shudder under the unexpected touch. "I'm going to make you want it as much as you always wanted me," Buffy promised.

The vampire pulled the dark-haired woman in for a devastatingly crushing and violent kiss. Her sharp teeth crashed into the raven slayer's thick lips, easily cutting the tender flesh. Faith moaned in surprise and pain into Buffy's open mouth. The undead slayer eagerly lapped up the small amount of blood that had seeped out of the shallow wound.

The vamped- out slayer pulled her head back suddenly, her face contorted in pain and pleasure. Wordlessly, Buffy shoved the younger girl away from her. The Boston-born slayer stumbled hard onto the wet pavement, catching herself with the palms of both hands. She immediately felt the biting sting of small stones cutting into her sensitive flesh. From her location on her hands and knees, Faith stared up in surprise at the Californian.

"But it's not time yet for that," Buffy whispered. Even in the dim lighting, Faith could see that the other slayer's body was shaking. Just that tiny amount of the dark slayer's blood had the soulless creature craving for more. "But don't worry, baby," Buffy sighed. "I have all the time in the world."

**Flashback**

"We need to do this quickly before the others come back from the cafeteria."

The needle pierced the blonde girl's skin and Willow pressed down on the stopper, flooding Buffy's bloodstream with Vampire venom. The Wicca pulled the needle out, and quickly placed a cotton swab at the point of entry.

"You sure you know what you're doing, Red?" Spike asked, hovering near the redhead's elbow.

Willow didn't look over at the vampire, but continued staring at the broken blonde, unconscious in her hospital bed. The Wicca's face looked determined and resolved. "We'll find your soul, Buffy," she whispered. "I promise."

The witch and the vampire stared in silence at the heart monitor. The faint jumps progressively slowed until the blonde slayer flat lined.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

"Many of those who sleep in the dust of the ground will awake, these to everlasting life, but the others to disgrace and everlasting contempt." _(Daniel 12:2)_

Flashback….

The redheaded witch, the English Watcher, and the brown-haired man stood huddled together around a new grave. The rain and wind pelted down on the trio of demon-fighters. None of the three muttered a word or made eye contact with each other. Instead, they stood silent around the fresh sod, as they had remained ever since nightfall, a few hours earlier.

Xander calmly grasped his best friend's hand with his own. He spoke for the first time since the cemetery crew had lowered his friend into the ground: "Will," he mumbled low, nearly inaudible against the storming night. "Will," he repeated, this time a little louder. "I don't think she's waking up."

Willow didn't look up into the wounded dark eyes of her friend. Instead, she stared hard at the soaking ground on which they stood as if glaring long enough at the recently unearthed sod would bring the blonde slayer back. "But she _has _to," she insisted, her voice slightly manic.

"I dare say this is the Powers that Be's way of righting the mistake you made, Willow," Giles admonished curtly, now that the silence of the night had been broken by Xander. He stood a little straighter and crossed his arms across his chest. "Having a vampire with slayer abilities would be disastrous."

"But if she had a _soul_, Giles," the witch defended her rash decision, "she could be another champion like Angel."

Giles shook his head animatedly. "You acted impulsively, selfishly, and foolishly," he lambasted the young Wicca. "And as much as I'll miss Buffy, I know she's in a far better place than being banished to cohabitate the same body as an evil demon."

"Willow," Xander tried again tugging a little on the witch's arm, "I think it's time for us to go."

"You two can go if you want, but I'm staying," the redhead muttered. "I'm not leaving her again."

Xander closed his dark eyes sadly and shook his head. "This isn't like last time, Will. Buffy didn't die a mystical death. And-and," his voice broke with emotion. "I hope this time, for everyone's sake, she doesn't come back."

The carpenter's words caused Willow's head to snap to attention. Her eyes flashed wildly at her life-long friend. "How can you say that?" the redhead hissed animatedly.

Xander held up his hands in front of his body as though fending himself from her verbal attack. "Just hear me out, okay?" he started. "I think Giles is right." The boy glanced briefly in the direction of the former Watcher. "We all loved Buffy, Will. But we have to believe that she's gone to a better place," Xander stated softly. "Maybe…maybe it really was just her time to go."

The Watcher kicked at the earth and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. "This is how it's always been," he muttered hoarsely. "Watchers always outlive their Slayers."

_Suggested Listening: Muse – "Feelin' Good"_

****Six feet under****

The blonde woman's eyes flipped open. She took a deep gasp, filling her lungs with unnecessary air. The recently deceased Slayer took immediate stock of her confined surroundings.

"Mother fucker," she mumbled to herself, recognizing the restricted environment. "Not _this _again."

Buffy cocked back her arms as much as she could inside the tight coffin and rearranged her stiff legs so that the balls of her feet pressed against the lid. Mustering all her strength, the young woman shoved upward.

The coffin lid blasted off of its hinges and vaulted up through the still-loose earth, affording the Californian an easier escape than the last time she had to dig herself out of a grave. Two pale hands clutched the fresh sod, followed by a head of glimmering blonde hair. The nearly full moon shone off the golden strands, making it shimmer like fresh corn silk. With minimal effort, the slender figure pulled herself out of the shallow grave.

Buffy righted herself, brushing the dirt from her shoulders. She smiled down at her outfit of black denim and button-up white blouse. "Well at least _this time _they didn't dress me in that nun habit," the girl snickered aloud to no one in particular. "Honestly, only in death did I suddenly become unfashionable."

The slayer stretched her stiff limbs above her head and yawned. "Mmm…now _that _was restful," she purred out loud. "I should die more often."

Buffy smacked her chapped lips together, aware of her acute thirst for the first time. Her throat felt dry and raw and an uncharacteristic hunger gnawed inside her belly. "Guess a low-fat yogurt's not gonna work anymore," she giggled to herself.

The vamped-up slayer's body went tense when she heard a twig snap. It sounded close, but with her new heightened abilities, she couldn't be sure. Everything was so much clearer now. Everything was enhanced even more so than she had experienced in her life as a Slayer.

If she closed her eyes and listened hard, she could just make out the faint rumble of semi-trucks barreling down the distant highway. She opened her nostrils and breathed in deeply. She could smell the pungent scent of death all around her; the rotting of corpses six feet below; the fresh, cool dew drops that sat undisturbed on long blades of vibrant green grass; and the sweet, wafting perfume of a female not a dozen headstones away.

Buffy's green eyes snapped open again when her stomach growled. It was time to feed.

The slayer-vampire rushed through the cemetery, tracking down the scent of the solitary girl. Normally the California girl would have thought herself more dignified than to be sniffing the air like a dog in heat, slightly crouched and shuffling through the misty cemetery, but the aching gnawing in her stomach and the raw burn in her throat trumped any fading memory of her former humanity.

Buffy paused when she effortlessly found her target. A young woman with straight honey-blonde hair, no more than twenty years old, crouched in front of an older grave. She wore only jeans and a UC-Sunnydale t-shirt despite the briskness of the night.

"It's a little late to be out by yourself, isn't it?" the vampire purred, causing the young woman to stand quickly. The anonymous girl spun on her heels to find herself uncomfortably face-to-face with a dazzling blonde woman.

"Oh, God," the girl gasped, a hand up to her heart. "You scared me."

Buffy's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "God's not gonna help you," she murmured before showing her sharp fangs.

The young girl screamed out in surprise and took a step backwards. "What's _wrong _with you?" she cried.

The honey-blonde woman blinked once, a mixture of confusion and horror on her face to think that anything could move that quickly. The mysterious woman was now inexplicably standing behind her.

Buffy roughly grabbed onto the girl by the shoulders before she could form another thought. The fear of the young girl in her unrelenting grasp washed over the new vampire like a chaotic ocean storm. Buffy shuddered involuntarily; her arousal heightened the more the young co-ed squirmed helplessly in her hold.

"Shhhh," Buffy whispered soothingly. She stroked the woman's straight hair. "It won't hurt…much."

Buffy brushed the honey-blonde hair out of the way and slowly licked down the expanse of the college-aged woman's neck. She shuddered again when the young girl unfurled a high-pitched scream. The vampire violently jerked the girl from side to side. "That's it," she encouraged darkly, her eyes growing yellow and a familiar throb pulsing between her cold thighs. "Struggle."

Closing her eyes, the vamped-out slayer sank her hollowed canines deep into the other woman's vulnerable neck. Buffy moaned around the tender flesh as the rich, thick blood rushed into her mouth. The girl's life flashed before Buffy's eyes as she drained her of her life force. She could taste the happiness, the pain, the lust, the anger, the sorrow, the loss, and the ecstasy the nameless woman had experienced throughout her short life. The blood continued to gush down her throat and the slayer could feel herself becoming stronger with every ounce.

When her victim's squirming finally ended, the demon tossed the lifeless body to the ground. The girl's drained form hit the soft grass with a hollow thump, and her pale face stared up blankly into the starry sky.

With her belly full, Buffy licked the tips of her fingers as though savoring the remnants of a particularly delicious meal. "Maybe I should go pay my friends a visit and thank them for making me a vampire," she mused happily. "After all," she reasoned aloud, "it _would_ be the polite thing to do."

_**Present Day….**_

"Fuck!"

Faith punched her clenched fist into the door that separated her foyer from the coat closet. Her hand easily splintered the wood and she could feel the board games and her leather jacket on the other side. The Boston girl wretched her fist out of the shattered door and fell to her knees, ignoring her mutilated, throbbing hand.

The tears fell harder and more freely than the Boston girl had ever expected. She hadn't cried this hard when she found out her alcoholic mother had died, nor when Kakistos had killed her Watcher. But now, upon witnessing the vampyric reanimation of her sister-Slayer, the emotions burned down her throat and washed down her olive-tinted face.

Faith wiped at her face with her forearm and grimaced at the long strand of slime that remained on her skin. There was nothing attractive about snot.

The Boston girl paused her sobs when she heard the brisk knock on the front door of her Los Angeles apartment. The only people who knew where she lived was Angel and his crew and they always called ahead to make sure she was there….or wasn't entertaining a late-night guest.

Faith shakily pulled herself to her feet. Perhaps one of her neighbors had heard the cursing and the closet door shattering. The brunette woman shut her eyes and tried to sense what was on the other side of the door. If she controlled her emotions and her breathing, she could normally ascertain if her perspective guests were human or something else altogether. The dark slayer silently cursed herself for not insisting her new apartment's front door came furnished with a peephole. She was currently far too distraught to sense whatever was on the opposite side of the door.

The unknown visitor knocked again.

Finally, Faith breathed in a shaky breath, and opened the door.

_**Flashback….**_

Willow grunted as she pushed open the front door of her home – the Summers' residence. She had been living there ever since Buffy's mother had passed. The redheaded girl reflexively reached out to flip on the light in the front foyer. Her fingers fumbled over the light switch, but nothing happened when she flicked it upward. A deep frown marred her features as she flipped the switch down and up again. Still nothing.

Closing and locking the front door behind her, Willow waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness as she glanced around the entranceway and toward the living room. The digital clock on an end table near the couch was dark as well, indicating the power was out.

Grumbling to herself, the witch shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up on an empty wall hanger. "Dawn?" she called out into the darkness. "Dawnie? Are you here?"

Willow started up the carpeted stairway towards the teen's bedroom, but paused halfway when she heard the faint sound of high-heels clicking on the linoleum floor in the kitchen below. "Dawn?" she tried again. "Is that you?"

Willow quickly descended the stairs, her eyes focused on her feet as they maneuvered down the dark stairwell. The air rushed out of her lungs when her body slammed into a small form whose insides felt like a combination of cement and ice. The witch looked up to find herself staring into familiar hazel-green eyes.

"Buffy!" the Wicca exclaimed. She reflexively threw her arms around her best friend's neck and hugged her close. Suddenly realizing her mistake, however, she gasped and jumped backwards as if the slayer's body burned her with fire, and not death.

Willow grasped her hands over her heart as though seeing her recently buried friend had given her a heart attack. "How did you get in here?"

The vampire shrugged nonchalantly. "I live here, remember?" she stated simply.

The witch's eyes narrowed in confusion, nearly forgetting the danger of standing so near a newly risen vampire. "But-but you can't come in without an invitation," Willow declared.

Buffy pursed her lips together and her eyebrows rose toward the ceiling. "My _sister _let me in."

"Oh, no!" the witch gasped, clutching at her chest again. "Where's Dawn?" she demanded vehemently. "What have you done with her?" Willow struggled to keep her voice from cracking. She would never be able to forgive herself if the youngest Summers girl was dead because of her.

"Oh relax, Willow," the vampire cooed, flipping a hand in the air. "I didn't eat her, if that's what you think." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "When she realized _what I was_, she locked herself in the upstairs bathroom and I got bored." Buffy picked at her canines with the tip of her pink tongue. "Besides, I've still got someone else stuck between my teeth."

The witch swallowed hard and tried unsuccessfully to banish the tears from her eyes. Buffy had already killed a human. And perhaps more than one.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," the slayer-vampire complained, tossing her bottom lip out in a pout. "It's not like I ate the Pope. And besides, _you're _as much to blame as me. _You're _the one who did this to me."

"Buffy, don't say that!" the redhead protested. "I only did it to save you! You would have died if I didn't bring you back," she gasped between her tearful sobs. "It was the only way."

The vampire's eyes transitioned from the blonde's hazel-green irises to a pale, sickly yellow. "You just can't let her go, can you?" she spat bitterly. "Always having to tear her out of Heaven. Some friends you are," she snorted.

Willow's face became indignant. "We all loved her," she protested in her defense. "It wasn't Buffy's time to die. Wait," she paused in her tirade. The redhead's face blanched as the vampire's words suddenly sank in. "What was that about … Heaven?"

Buffy's mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. "When you brought her back from the dead the second time, you ripped her out of Heaven. She was happy. She was satisfied with the way her life had ended. But now," she chuckled darkly. "You've banished her to Hell for eternity."

The Wicca couldn't control the loud sob that choked out of her throat. "She's-she's in Hell?" she sputtered.

The vampire snickered wickedly. "Naw, that's a total lie," she grinned widely. Buffy turned her back on her best friend and walked into the living room. "I'm _evil_, Red. Remember?" The blonde creature smiled sweetly and reclined on one of the couches. "You can't trust me."

"So-so you think she's in Heaven right now?" the redhead questioned anxiously.

The undead woman kicked her feet up on the cushions and stretched her arms above her slender form. "Yep," Buffy yawned lazily. "Your friend's probably kickin' it in Heaven again. Floating around with the wings and the halo and the harp." The vampire smiled to herself. "Of course I bet she's mighty pissed to know I'm walking around inside her body. Mmmm…" she purred, running the palms of her cold hands down her upper torso. "And what a body."

"I-I was going to restore her soul," the witch stuttered, frozen in her position between the foyer and living room. "I had all the incantations and the ingredients."

The blonde removed her feet from the cushioned seating, settling them back on the ground. She eyeballed the Wicca woman with a strange hunger in her eyes and licked her lips. "Return her soul, eh? Well, what are ya gonna do now?" she taunted quietly. "Return her soul to this body? Banish her from Heaven again?"

Buffy abruptly stood up from her seat and took a few steps dangerously closer to the witch. "Only this time she won't be returning to a live body," she continued. "This time she'll be forced to roommate with the undead."

She stopped, a few feet from the trembling Wicca and lasciviously licked her red lips. "So what's it gonna be, Willow?"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Present Day….**

"Ya gonna invite me in, or what?" the blonde demon smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

Faith stood in shock as she stared at the dangerous, leather-clad figure in front of her. "How-how did you find this place?" the Boston girl stuttered. She looked down the hallway in both directions looking for more vampires or discarded corpses.

Buffy stood upright and crossed her thin, muscled arms across her modest chest. Her pink lips curled into a malicious smile. "Doesn't take a rocket scientist to follow you home from a cemetery."

The Boston girl hesitated just within the foyer of her Los Angeles apartment. Her mind raced to the places where she had hidden weapons. The stakes in the hall closet between the bathroom and her bedroom. The axe in the coat closet just a few feet from where she currently stood. The curved-bladed knife she kept under her pillow.

Sensing the young slayer's predicament, Buffy smiled more kindly. "I would have brought an entourage with me if I wanted to kill you," she stated softly. "Can I come in?" she pressed again.

Still half-stunned and half-curious, the brunette took a few steps back and nodded wordlessly.

"I need you to say the actual words, sweetheart," the blonde girl smirked. "You know how this works."

Somehow, finding her voice, the dark slayer muttered the two syllables that could possibly be the greatest mistake of her young, complicated life. "Come in," the brunette slayer whispered.

"I don't know how to say this – and I really didn't want to do this over the phone…" the redhead hesitated.

"Willow," Angel enunciated through the receiver. "What is it? Just tell me what's wrong."

"It's Buffy," the witch began slowly. She involuntary tightened her grip on her cell phone. "She's dead. Again."

The silence on the other end was deafening.

"Angel?" Willow called out over the phone line, her voice panicked.

The receiver was filled with the noise of shuffling and grunting and the clearing of a throat. "I'm-I'm here," Angel gruffly stated. "How did she…how did it happen?"

Willow frowned. She didn't want to face Angel's wrath for turning his ex-lover into a soulless demon, but she knew she couldn't keep the truth from him for long.

"Vampires," she lied.

"Is she," the soul'd demon chose his words carefully, "coming back?"

"She already is," the redhead whimpered. "Oh Angel, it was horrible," she rushed out. "She looked like Buffy, but she was so _mean_ – so not…Buffy."

"That's because it's _not _Buffy," the vampire reminded the young woman, curtly. "You have to keep that in mind or she'll take advantage of that and prey on your weaknesses." Angel paused. "Where is she now?"

"Los Angeles," Willow informed the soul'd vampire. "I thought she might have already paid you a visit, actually. I'm sorry it took me so long to call," she apologized. "I-I've just been a mess about all of this, and I didn't know how to tell you what had happened."

Angel sighed into the phone and raked his fingers through his tussled hair. "Well, I'm glad you finally did. Have you…are you planning on retrieving her soul? Or-or do you want me to kill it?"

Willow paused and absentmindedly chewed on her thumbnail. "It's complicated," she vaguely stated.

"I'm not getting any older," the ancient demon lightly joked.

Not wanting to rehash her traumatic interaction with the vamped-up slayer, Willow remained brief. "What if she's in Heaven and we force her to share a body with a demon?"

Angel clucked his tongue against the roof of his tongue as he let Willow's words sink in. "That's a good point," he noted. "I've had a few centuries to keep my demon in check, but for a Slayer, that might be complete torture."

"I've got the spell ready," the redheaded girl continued, "I just don't know if I should do it," she sighed. "But regardless, we'd first have to contain her like we did with Angelus."

"And you're sure she came to Los Angeles?" Angel asked.

"I did a locator spell and found her there," the redheaded Wicca revealed. "I'm really surprised she hasn't shown up at the Hyperion, actually."

"She hasn't been to see me," the ancient demon insisted to the witch. "No calls, no letters, no dead bodies on my doorstep."

"Angel," Willow murmured over the phone. "Do you think –,"

"Faith," the soul'd vampire interrupted, immediately thinking the same thing as the young witch. "_She's_ the target."

"Your hand is hurt," the vampire observed, unconsciously licking her lips at the sight of Faith's bloody and bruised hand.

The brunette stared down at her hand and quickly hid it behind her back in embarrassment. "It's-it's nothing," she lied. "Just banged it up smacking around some demons."

Buffy smiled at her sister-Slayer. "Still fighting the good fight, huh? Buffy should have given you more credit."

"How did this happen to you?" Faith blurted out. It was the question she had been too afraid to ask in the back alley where she had originally run into the slayer-vampire. Partly out of morbid curiously, but partly for her own benefit, she wanted to know the answer. It was as if her own mortality was staring at her in the face, albeit looking breathtaking and painfully sexy in her tight, black leather mini skirt.

"Got anything to drink?" the vampire asked, ignoring the question. "I'm parched." She walked past the brunette slayer and made her way back to the apartment's small kitchenette.

"I, uh, actually have some blood in the fridge," the Boston girl admitted lamely, watching the vampire walk deeper into her home.

Buffy turned to look at the young slayer and cocked her right eyebrow in surprise. "You've got blood? Here?"

"I keep some around incase the Big Guy drops in. Ya know…to be polite," Faith explained. She followed the slight sway of the vampire's tightly encased backside into the small kitchen.

"You and Angel are pretty close, huh?" Buffy asked. She hefted her small body into a seated position on the kitchen's lone countertop. Her high-heeled shoes swung back and forth, lightly knocking against the wooden cabinets beneath.

Faith shrugged and wordlessly turned to the fridge. Seeing Buffy in this state made the hair on her forearms prickle. She lamented that she couldn't feel the gentle hum of Buffy Summers tickling her spine. Instead, it was like being around the Buffy-bot, mixed with the familiar, gnawing vampire alert that her body picked up like sonar radar.

"So when do I get to hear this grand story of how you became a vampire?" Faith grunted again. "I'm sure it's wicked interesting." The Boston girl turning away from the fridge with a bag of O-negative clenched in her one good hand.

Buffy cringed. "It's not really _that _interesting," she remarked, remembering the most recent past.

The dark slayer raised an amused eyebrow despite the situation. "Try me."

The vampire watched with interest as the Boston girl gracefully moved to a set of cupboards near her, seemingly without fear. It was almost as if Faith had feared Buffy more in life than in death. This certainly wasn't the reaction she had anticipated from the dark slayer. Faith produced a ceramic mug and poured the crimson fluid into the cup.

"Demons," the blonde stated flatly. "I'm not exactly sure what kind," she shrugged. "Maybe I should have paid better attention in Slayer School." Buffy licked her lips hungrily as she watched the thick fluid ooze into the coffee cup.

Faith's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and she handed the container to the seated blonde. "How did _demons _turn you into a _vampire_?"

Buffy took a long sip from the mug and smiled. "Pig blood? How quaint."

A frown appeared on the brunette's beautiful face. "Not like I'm gonna be keepin' _human_ blood in my fridge. That's just creepy."

Buffy smirked. "Uh-huh. And pig blood is _so _less weird."

Faith cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Your story?" she pressed, eager for the blonde to focus on her narration.

"Oh, right," the vampire chirped. "I was in the hospital – I was dying. And then…they changed me."

The Boston girl's jaw went slack. "_Who _changed you?" she demanded. Faith clenched her bruised hand, momentarily forgetting the dull ache she felt there. Someone would pay for this.

Sensing the young slayer's anger, Buffy smiled. The rage was like an aphrodisiac to the vampire. "The ever-selfish Scooby gang, of course," she sing-songed. "More precisely…Willow."

A growl erupted from the brunette's throat, surprising the seated vampire. "Mother fucker. I'm going to _kill _that witch," she snarled. The dark slayer's body went tense and the soulless vampire could practically see the blood flow hotter and faster through her delicious veins.

Buffy hopped down from the counter and set the mug on the faux-granite top. She touched her icy hand on Faith's forearm. "You don't have to do that just for me," she murmured softly. "I can take care of myself, you know."

Faith dropped her eyes suddenly and jerked her arm away from the soulless being's eerie cool touch. "What-what was it like?" she stuttered, moving back towards the fridge to rummage for the ice pack she thought she kept in the icebox. Her busted fist was starting to ache. "What did it feel like?" she asked.

Buffy grimaced at the question and the recent memories. "The vampire venom – I could feel it rushing through my veins like the most painful thing I'd ever experienced. It felt like I was burning from the inside," she revealed. "I could literally feel my body changing. Slowing down and dieing, but getting stronger at the same time."

The Boston girl closed the freezer and turned back toward the dangerous vampire, having come up empty-handed. "Why are you here, Buffy?" she asked suddenly.

Buffy shrugged overdramatically, nearly knocking the ceramic mug off the narrow countertop. "I don't know? The sun? The beach? Maybe eat some cast members from _The Hills_?"

Faith shook her head and tried to keep the smile off of her pouty lips. "Not in LA; I meant where are you _here_," she clarified."Like, in my apartment."

The vampire's lips twisted into a small smirk. "I guess you could call it…unfinished business."

"Oh right. Because apparently you want to _turn _me. Ain't gonna happen, sweetheart."

The blonde slayer smiled at the younger woman. Buffy always knew you had a thing for her. She always wanted you, too, ya know," she revealed. "She was just too afraid to do anything about it."

Faith snorted in disbelief. "Uh-huh. Buffy Summers wanted to get down and dirty with _me?_" She shook her head angrily. "I don't believe you."

"It's true," Buffy insisted.

The dark-haired slayer frowned sourly. "So why didn't she say anything, then? Afraid her precious Scoobies would think differently of her for wanting to get all Sapphic?"

The vampire shook her head. "No. Afraid of being rejected by _you_, Faith. You weren't exactly a model of stability back in Sunnydale, you know. She thought if she pursued you, you would just laugh in her face."

The Boston girl's eyes clouded over as she allowed the vampire's attractive words to settle. "And now she's gone," Faith whispered hoarsely. "Now it's too late."

The vampire placed her stone cold fingertips against the side of Faith's beautiful face and cocked her head to the side. She gazed meaningfully into the dark chocolate abyss of the young woman's irises. "It doesn't have to be too late," she breathed. Her fingertips trailed down the young slayer's exposed neck.

The Boston girl took a step backwards away from the seductive, yet icy touch. "I-I couldn't," she stuttered anxiously.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, Fai," the soulless creature breathed as she took a step closer.

The dark-haired slayer felt frozen in place like she had been in the alley. She wondered if vampire Buffy had already mastered thrall, but she realized that _human_ Buffy had always possessed a hold on her. The dangerous vampire stalked closer again and leaned forward, pressing her front against the taller woman's chest.

"How many of us did you kill tonight?" she whispered seductively, her lips barely brushing against the Boston girl's open mouth. "Bet you're…_hungry_ from all that slaying."

The dark slayer's body ached all over, partly from the earlier fight, but mostly from the emotional pain of mourning her sister-Slayer. She wanted to be touched. She wanted to be consoled. She wanted to be loved. But was _this _the answer?

The dazzling beauty standing unnervingly close wasn't Buffy. But it would be so easy to just pretend, if only for one night. Faith unconsciously wet her bee-stung lips and hated the way her eyes seemed to roam without her permission. Buffy was just as gorgeous as ever, even if she was dead.

Annoyed by the other girl's silence, the blonde vampire grabbed onto the front of the Boston slayer's tight red tank top and shred it down the center with just the raw strength of her bare hands. The dark-haired girl could only remain in her frozen position.

"I know this isn't the way you imagined it, baby," Buffy murmured consolingly. The vampire placed a cool hand on the side of the Boston girl's face and gazed hard into her eyes again. Her other hand found its way to the dark slayer's chest. She pressed her frigid palm against Faith's naked chest cavity and felt the rhythmic throb of the young brunette's heart.

"But it's not too late, Fai," she whispered soothingly. She leaned forward and brushed her lukewarm lips against the brunette's scorching mouth. "You can still have her in all the ways you were never able to before."

Faith whimpered and closed her eyes. She knew this wasn't real.

Buffy held the slayer's burning hand in her own icy grasp. "Come with me," the undead woman urged, "and we can mourn the death of your friend together," she promised, continuing to lead the young girl down the hallway and toward the bedroom.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_Suggested Listening: Muse – "Time is Running Out"_

As if under the thrall of the slayer vampire, Faith allowed Buffy to lead her towards the back bedroom. The vampire walked carefully backwards down the narrow hallway, her eyes never leaving the way the Boston girl's form moved, her lascivious grin never leaving her normally bronzed face. The undead woman kept a firm grip on the younger slayer's hand. The brunette girl's skin was hot to Buffy's cooler touch, like standing too close to a radiator.

Buffy pulled the girl into the center of the sparse bedroom. Only a double bed and a dresser decorated the room. A few pieces of errant clothing littered the hardwood floor. The walls were barren, void of any posters or photographs or any sense of the Boston girl's decorative taste. No building structure had ever felt like Home to the young slayer, so she spared herself the money and time of attempting to place personal touches in the rooms where she resided.

The vampire smiled a private grin as she afforded herself a quick survey of her surroundings and noted the paucity of the young woman's decorations. The space reflected the Boston girl's continued outlook on life. This was not a welcoming living environment – no vibrant dinner parties filled with friends occurred in this apartment. The living room saw nothing of holiday celebrations. The bedroom entertained no single, habitual visitor.

Faith bit her thick bottom lip and her dark eyes filled with worry and hesitation when the vampire's nimble hands flipped open the top button of her dark denim jeans. Sensing the younger woman's trepidation, the undead slayer pressed her cool lips against the dark-haired woman's mouth. "Don't worry, Fai," the golden-haired slayer murmured enticingly. Buffy stroked her fingertips along the younger slayer's jaw line. "Nothing bad is going to happen."

Buffy shimmed to the ground, bending at the knees until her face was level with the Boston woman's denim-clad sex. The golden-haired slayer looked up at the surprisingly timid woman and offered her a sweet, comforting smile.

"Lift up your leg," she coaxed quietly, tugging at the firm calf. Her hazel-green eyes continued to stare hard into her younger counterpart's wide-open, chocolate irises.

Faith obediently lifted her right leg from the floor, balancing only on her left limb. Buffy wiggled her fingers up the younger woman's tight pant-leg and brushed the pads of her fingers against the Boston girl's smooth, toned calf. She gave her onetime-friend/onetime-enemy a wry smile as she pulled the tight leather boot down her tight calf and off of her foot, pulling the dark sock off along with the heavy shoe.

The Boston-born slayer rested her bare foot back on the hardwood floor. The polished surface felt cool, like the vampire's skin, against her sweaty sole. She felt unbalanced, with one boot on and the other off; her slender, toned legs at two different heights. Moreover, the sexually experienced slayer had never been in this position before. _She _was always the one who did the undressing. _She _was always the one in control.

Buffy shifted her weight and moved from a crouched position, down to her knees. The wooden floor should have felt uncomfortable against her naked kneecaps, but the vampire felt little to no pain when she rearranged her body in such mundane and human ways. She knew she was stronger and faster than the young slayer could ever imagine, but she continued these annoyingly slow and mortal movements to not startle the hesitant girl.

The undead slayer looked up expectantly at the Boston girl. "Now the other, Fai," she cajoled, pulling on her left leg.

Faith's thick lips twitched as if she considering whether or not to speak, but she remained silent and merely lifted her left leg instead. The soulless vampire removed the remaining boot in one smooth, fluid motion and the dark sock quickly followed.

Buffy remained on her knees in front of the Boston girl and Faith reflexively reached out to stroke the elder woman's golden hair. The undead slayer smirked cruelly at the simple gesture. "You've always wanted me like this, huh, Faithy? Buffy Summers on her knees in front of you." The vampire reached for the girl's rough zipper and pulled the fastening down the front of her lower torso.

Faith swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from the smooth, pale hands so close to her covered mons. Her body trembled when the slayer vampire peeled away the denim flaps like opening a delicate flower to reveal the sweet nectar inside. "B-Buffy," she whimpered, when the soulless demon began to shimmy the denim material down her slender hips.

"Shhh," the vampire soothed, giving her another sweet, reassuring smile. Buffy pulled the tight jeans down and off Faith's muscled thighs and calves, leaving her in only a black bra and striped boi shorts to cover her toned body.

Still on her knees, Buffy traced her chilly fingers up and down Faith's quivering legs. She carefully inspected the skin, and smiled at the trail of goosebumps that had appeared. The California slayer hooked her fingers at the top of Faith's form-fitting boi shorts and pulled them down slightly. She continued to wiggle the material down, letting the soft cotton slowly scrape against the inside of Faith's tender thighs until finally revealing her shaved sex.

The vampire groaned quietly and she licked her full lips as she stared at the hairless, pouting lips. Buffy looked up at Faith, unsurprised that the Boston girl's normally dark eyes had become even darker. The vampire's lips curled into a smile and she stroked her chilled fingertips along the insides of the dark-haired girl's soft thighs. "Just imagine, Fai….Vampires don't need air," she grinned coyly, raising a carefully manicured eyebrow at the young woman.

Faith's knees slightly buckled when Buffy brushed the tip of her nose across her already protruding clit. A jolt of pleasure rocked her body and she felt the blood rush down to her throbbing center. "Oh, God," she gasped under her breath. Faith reached out and grasped onto the foot of the heavy wooden bed-frame for support. She clenched her hand around the wooden knob at the end of the bed, feeling the material creak and groan under her vice-like grip.

Buffy smiled up knowingly at her young lover. "Anxious, baby?" she purred sweetly. She stroked her fingers again down the insides of the Boston slayer's tense legs, coaxing the younger slayer to relax.

The Californian bit her bottom lip and hooked her fingers again under the cotton material of the curvaceous slayer's underwear and pulled the soft garment down her legs. The undead woman lifted the younger woman's legs again to help her step out of the discarded panties.

Buffy stood up from her knees. Her black stilettos elevated her so that she and the young slayer were almost equal heights. With a dangerous smile, Buffy's fingers tickled down to the young slayer's sides. "Almost there, Fai," she murmured, as she lazily toyed with the under wire of the Boston girl's lace bra. "Lift up your arms for me, baby," she lightly instructed the obedient slayer.

Faith's eyes flicked around the room momentarily, but she took a deep breath and raised her arms over her head. Buffy leaned forward and nuzzled her small, upturned nose along the expanse of the younger woman's neck. She smiled widely, inhaling the other woman's fear and arousal mixing together like a delicious cocktail. Wrapping her arms around the curvy woman's ribcage, Buffy's fingers traveled to the center of Faith's back. Fumbling briefly, her own breasts pressed tightly into Faith's, the California vampire quickly found the bra clasp. Smiling at her handiwork, Buffy took a step backwards and gently pressed her hands on the taller girl's shoulders, coaxing Faith's arms back down at her sides. Her cool fingertips brushed the bra straps from Faith's angular shoulders, letting the satiny strips fall down her toned arms and causing the lacy undergarment to fall from her chest.

Buffy took a few more steps back from the now-naked body of her sister-Slayer to better appreciate her work. She murmured appreciatively and allowed her eyes to fully feast on the painfully arousing sight before her. Faith felt uncharacteristically embarrassed, standing so vulnerable and exposed before her former slaying partner. She crossed her arms modestly over her ample chest.

The soulless vampire frowned. "Don't be shy now, baby," she clucked. The undead slayer took a few steps closer to the naked Boston girl and gently retched her arms away from the girl's beautiful breasts. "I wanna be able to enjoy my view," Buffy purred.

The undead slayer hefted the slight weight of the younger girl's naked breasts in her hands. The soft, flawless flesh felt vulnerable in her strong hands as she caressed and squeezed the pliable skin. "These look delicious, Faithy," the vampire whispered, leaning down to kiss across the tender flesh.

Faith sucked a breath in between her lips, feeling the talented mouth fluttering across the expanse of her exposed breasts. Buffy placed small, butterfly kisses on the exposed skin as her mouth traveled across the Boston girl's chest. The dark-haired girl felt mesmerized at the sight of the small blonde woman so completely distracted by her bosom.

A cold tongue flicked out against a hardening nipple and Faith hissed loudly. It felt like the slayer-vampire had rubbed an ice cube, rather than her tongue, across the sensitive bud. Buffy sucked hard on a nipple and, despite the chilly cavernous mouth, the dark-haired woman felt flushed.

Buffy released the tightened nipple and moved toward the more fleshy part of the Boston girl's right breast. She looked up into the dark eyes of her lover from underneath heavy eyelashes. "Do you trust me?" she rasped huskily.

Faith ran her fingers through the elder slayer's corn-silk soft hair and felt herself being pulled into the pooling emerald abyss. She bit her full bottom lip with her top teeth, but slowly and wordlessly shook her head.

"I'm going to bite you, Faith," Buffy breathed, ignoring the Boston slayer's refusal. The vampire grabbed onto the younger girl's solid hips to hold her in place. "I want to mark you. I want everyone to know that you're _mine_. You belong to me."

Faith whimpered quietly, but remained still, half afraid and half incredibly aroused by what was transpiring. She knew that the gorgeous creature, still clothed before her, wasn't really Buffy; but she looked just like her – sounded just like her – and that was all Faith could hope for anymore. Buffy, the woman she had unconditionally loved for so long, was dead. But she would take what this vampire-version of the girl had to give. It was all she had anymore.

The vamped slayer flicked her tongue against the soft swell of the younger girl's full breast. Her tongue glided along the underside of the fleshy globe. "Don't be afraid," she murmured quietly before her angelic face transformed into a demonic puzzle of ridges and bumps. Buffy tightened her hold once again on the Boston girl's chiseled hipbones before slowly sinking her elongated canines into the flesh of Faith's right breast, just above the nipple.

Faith slammed her eyes shut, unsure if she was in incredible pain or incredibly aroused. She grabbed onto the small vampire's thin shoulders and squeezed tightly as Buffy began to slowly suck blood from her breast. The California slayer remained with one hand clamped strongly on Faith's naked hipbone while the other traveled up to the Boston girl's left breast. The soulless vampire gently tweaked and twisted Faith's left nipple between two strong fingers as she continued to slowly drain her. The dark-haired girl sighed quietly and twisted her fingers in the golden slayer's soft tresses. Finally, after a few moments, Buffy gently released her hold on her lover's breast and lovingly stroked her tongue along the two small wounds, capturing the final rivers of blood.

Buffy licked her red mouth and stood straighter so that she was face-to-face with her former enemy and friend. She leaned forward and softly pressed her still-bloody lips against Faith's full mouth, affording the young slayer a taste of her own blood. The Boston girl grimaced slightly from the shocking tang of iron in her mouth, but gladly accepted the vampire's tongue when she flicked it against her full bottom lip, seeking entrance into her mouth. Faith moaned into the full kiss.

Buffy pulled back from the intimate embrace. "So, I've gotten a taste, Fai," she stated with a wistful smile. "But that's not really what I came here to feast on." The vamped slayer cast her eyes downward, gazing on the Boston girl's naked sex. Faith was surprised when she felt the slight blush of embarrassment creep onto her cheeks when she felt the trajectory of her lover's stare.

The vampire pushed the taller woman backwards with just the tips of her fingers against the dark-haired woman's breastplate, leading her towards the unmade double bed. Faith fell softly backwards onto her back when the backs of her knees hit the edge of her mattress. The bed frame felt uncomfortable against the Boston slayer's back as she sat leaning against the head of the bed with her legs splayed wide open for the blonde vampire.

"Too bad there's no pole in here," the undead woman grinned mischievously as her hands fluttered near her black, leather, mini-skirt's zipper. Faith remained motionless on the bed, but gnashed her back molars together as she watched the slender blonde slowly unzip her skirt and lower it down her boyishly narrow hips. The vampire stepped out of the tiny skirt, leaving her only in stilettos, dark purple lace panties and her sheer tank top.

Buffy teetered out of the high-heels, dropping her height several inches. Her hands toyed momentarily with the hem of her nearly see-through top before she inched it up, revealing her tight abdominal muscles, her modest swelling breasts, the delicately defined clavicle, and up over her smiling face.

Buffy hefted her own breasts in her hands, the cleavage nearly spilling out of the dark purple convertible bra. The blonde cocked her head and looked down at her own modest breasts and then back up towards the still-naked brunette. "They're not so bad," she observed aloud to herself. "Guess there could be worse bodies to be stuck in," the demon considered with a grin.

The mattress sank slightly as the svelte blonde slayer climbed up the double bed toward the Boston girl, wearing only the matching deep purple panty-bra set. The recently dead Californian straddled the younger woman's warm body between her cool thighs. "I always wondered what exactly you did, Fai, when you took my body for a ride," the dangerous undead woman leered.

Buffy reached behind her own back and deftly unfastened the convertible bra, letting her breasts spill out of the garment. Faith whimpered when the golden-haired slayer leaned forward and ran the tip of her sharp canines down her flawless neck. "Did you touch my breasts when you were inside my body?" the vampire purred into Faith's salty skin, giving it a long lick.

Buffy sucked on the Boston girl's sensitive pressure point, holding back when she felt the taller girl's jugular vein dance seductively under her lips. Faith groaned quietly and clenched at the balled up cotton sheets at her sides as the undead slayer nibbled on her exposed neck. The vampire resisted the urge to tear her lover's neck open and bath in her blood despite the attractive mental images of the chaotic crimson shower flashing behind her closed eyelids. She would have her fill of the Slayer, but not like that.

Buffy wiggled her delicate lace panties down her hips and legs. "Were you able to resist feeling what it's like to be inside my hot, wet cunt?" she growled lowly in the other woman's ear, pressing her naked sex against the Boston girl's strong thigh. "Or did you just have to know? Did you push my fingers into my tight pussy, Faith? Did you feel how tight I am?"

The vampire began to slowly grind her lower body on the dark slayer. She could feel the younger woman's arousal, already heavy on her naked thigh, as she pressed harder into Faith's bare pussy. The two women's slick pussies glided against each other, the intense friction causing both the slayer and the vampire to audibly call out. Sensitive clit touched sensitive clit, dancing in the most intimate tango, battling for dominance in this very private and primal embrace.

The Boston girl groaned loudly. Her body felt hot and the cotton sheets stuck to the backs of her sweaty and naked legs. The vampire, however, showed no signs of exhaustion or over-stimulation. Her body was like stone marble, a constant reminder to Faith that the creature grinding enthusiastically on top of her spread body wasn't really Buffy Summers.

Buffy reached between their bodies and rubbed the pad of her thumb against the Boston girl's sensitive clit. Faith moaned and felt her eyes roll back into her skull when the aggressive vampire moved from the small circles on her clit to slide a solid finger deep into her ready sex. Buffy pulled the saturated digit out of her lover's core and spread the Boston girl's arousal on her own naked pussy. "Mmmm," she purred softly, grinding her lower body against her hand. "Isn't it better when we share?"

The golden-haired vampire slid her finger back inside Faith, earning her another guttural groan from the human between her thighs. Bottoming out, Buffy's knuckles bumped roughly against the vulnerable slayer's clit. The undead girl pulled out again, this time painfully slowly, and then slid the sex-coated digit between her own pouting pussy lips.

Buffy thrust a sure finger hard into her own sex. The blonde closed her eyes and sighed quietly. Faith gasped as if the visual was literally painful for her. "Fuck, B," she growled, clamping her hands on the vampire's jutting hipbones. Her eyes stared hard at the soulless creature's lower torso as Buffy pistoned the single finger in and out of her tight cunt. "That's so fuckin' hot, babe," Faith murmured as if in a trance.

The dark-haired girl tried to sit up to gain control, but Buffy placed the palm of her free hand on Faith's delicately carved right shoulder and pushed her back down, forcing her back down on the bed. The vampire clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Nuh-uh, Faithy," she admonished playfully, wagging her free hand at the Boston girl still between her thighs. "It's _my _turn to play."

The vamped slayer plunged a second finger inside her tight sex and growled loudly. She bounced up and down on her hand, with the Boston slayer staring between her thighs.

"Fuck, Buffy," Faith grunted, unable to tear her eyes away from the view of the small Californian assaulting her own pussy with her rigid fingers. "Just like that," the dark-haired girl panted, nearly forgetting that it was a dangerous vampire hovered above her own body. "Fuck yourself for me, baby," she urged lowly. "Fuck that sweet little cunt."

Buffy's head lolled backwards and her hazel-green eyes shut as she lost herself to the first orgasm. The dark slayer watched in fascination as the Chosen One's face morphed from human to vampire to human again as the climax rocked through her small frame. Still getting used to not needing breath, the vampire rolled off of Faith's body with her fingers still lodged inside her pulsing core. Her lungs rapidly expanded and contracted from her exertions, gasping in unnecessary air, as she lay on her side.

Taking advantage of the vampire's momentary lapse, Faith sat up and repositioned herself above the recovering demon. "What are you do—," the soulless creature began to protest when she realized the Boston girl was quickly moving. The dark slayer grabbed onto Buffy's forearm and thrust upward, forcing the slayer vampire's still-imbedded fingers further up her tight pussy.

"Oh, fuck," the vampire growled, feeling her own fingers penetrating herself.

Faith pulled the elder slayer's fingers free from her sex and sucked them into her mouth. The dark-haired girl rolled her tongue around the two digits, drinking in the elder woman's essence. The vampire's normally hazel-green eyes momentarily faded yellow as her large eyes dilated watching the Boston girl licking her arousal from her two fingers.

The dark slayer grabbed one of the California vampire's slender legs and hefted it over her shoulder, affording her better access to the undead woman's still-soaking sex. The younger counterpart easily slid two digits deep into the other woman's surprisingly warm pussy. Faith hadn't known quite what to expect, but this certainly wasn't unpleasant. Buffy's pussy gripped tightly onto the younger woman's persistent fingers and while the rest of the blonde's skin felt cool to the touch, the inside of her cunt was warmer, more human.

Faith closed her eyes tightly and tried to control her breathing and the rapid throbbing of her heart. She had wanted to be inside the elder slayer for so long, and now she was finally touching Buffy the way she had wanted to make her feel for so long. And although she had to continually remind herself that the woman writhing and rolling her hips and climaxing beneath her rocking hand was not the same Buffy Summers, it was easy to momentarily forget that the girl was dead when the alternative was so appealing.

Faith rolled onto her back, panting and out of breath. Beads of sweat dripped down her face, dribbling onto her naked breasts and pooling in her belly button. Slayer stamina seemed to have its limits when dealing with a slayer vampire.

Buffy hopped back up with a quiet growl, reclaiming the dominant position as her lover recovered. The vampire kissed and licked her way down the brunette's flat stomach, loving the way the Slayer's toned abdominal muscles flexed and rippled under her gentle touch. The vamped slayer passed over the scar that bound them together, but paused to dip her tongue into the slight concave of the younger woman's bellybutton. She swirled her tongue in the shallow crevice as if a promise or indication of what her talented tongue was capable of.

Faith sighed and stroked her fingers along the back of the vampire slayer's neck. "You don't know how long I've waited for this, B," she announced softly. "I've wanted you like this for so long."

Buffy retreated from the Boston girl's pussy long enough to look up at the girl and share a smile. "I know, baby. So just sit back and let me do this for you," she murmured, parting the taller woman's thighs with her strong hands.

Faith arched her back slightly, her naked breasts thrusting forward, when she felt the tip of the vampire's tongue touch her aching clit. The blonde woman aggressively lashed her tongue against the sensitive nub and the dark-haired slayer hissed loudly. Buffy wrapped her lips around the small bud and continued flicking at the bundle of tissue and nerves with the tip of her tongue. She sucked on the small organ, pulling mewls of satisfaction from the younger woman's thick lips.

"Fuck, Buffy," the dark-haired slayer groaned loudly. "Fuck…your tongue." Faith tugged roughly on the golden-locks and held the back of the smaller woman's head close to her cunt.

The California vampire buried her face more fully into the Boston girl's naked sex. Buffy lapped at Faith's throbbing clit, lavishing attention as if she depended on the other girl's arousal, and not her blood, to survive. Buffy ran her tongue the length of the younger woman's slit and sank her long tongue slowly inside the brunette's seeping pussy. She curled her tongue and brushed slowly along the insides of the clenching and convulsing sex.

The vampire withdrew and replaced her long tongue with two feminine fingers into the tight channel. "Oh God, Buffy," Faith choked out, still clenching at the smaller woman's head. "Your fingers…yes…" she moaned.

Buffy traced the tip of her tongue along the tender flesh of the young slayer's sensitive inner thighs as her fingers continued to lazily thrust in and out of the Boston girl's ever-tightening sex. Easily locating the femoral artery, Buffy slowly sank her teeth into the girl's tender flesh causing Faith to cry out in surprise and pain. The Boston girl jerked her leg slightly, but Buffy only held on more tightly. The vamped slayer had learned in her short time as the undead that vampires actually preferred this vein to the jugular. The blood flowed more freely, more sweetly. And when it was Slayer blood, it was Buffy's own personal brand of heroin.

The blonde continued to rapidly thrust her two digits hard into Faith's dripping cunt, her feminine fingers repeatedly penetrating the eager sex as the younger girl was pushed closer to her own orgasm. The pain and the pleasure collided, clouding the Boston girl's senses.

Buffy bit down more fiercely, shaking her head slightly like a puppy playing with a chew toy as she continued to suck harder, draining the Boston girl of more of her life force. The taste of the girl's addictive blood and the scent of her arousal had driven the soulless slayer to the edge of sanity.

"Wait. Stop, B," Faith rasped, feeling her blood draining out, along with her energy. "Buffy, you need to stop," she weakly protested through heavily lidded eyes. Her hands swatted uselessly at the vampire's tensed shoulder blades. But the elder slayer was too far gone to care as she ravenously continued to feed from the woman's thighs.

The vampire looked up suddenly, hissing, when she felt a sharp pain strike her left shoulder blade. Upon impact, Buffy's face had instinctively gone into "game-mode," and a mixture of Faith's blood and arousal dripped down her chin. The vamped-out slayer whipped her head around to see a crossbow arrow sticking out of her angular back. It had widely missed her heart.

The blonde demon grinned wildly at the thin wooden reed and trained her eyes on the formidable soul'd vampire who stood just a few feet away. "I always knew you weren't man enough to kill me, Angel," Buffy leered.

Buffy stood up defiantly from between Faith's splayed thighs. Unconcerned about her nakedness in front of her former boyfriend, she reached behind her, causing her naked chest to jut out obscenely, and yanked the arrow out of her back. The soulless vampire tossed the offending, yet harmless weapon onto the ground and took a menacing step toward her ex-lover.

"Did you enjoy the show, Angel? Did it get you _hot _seeing me with her?" she purred seductively, eyeballing the broad-shouldered undead man. "I'm thinking maybe I should give you one big Happy," she cooed dangerously, "and Angelus and I can have some fun too."

"You need to leave, or I _will _kill you," the ancient vampire growled, his body shaking in anger. He dropped the now-empty crossbow on the ground and it clattered noisily against the hardwood floor.

Buffy stuck her bottom lip out in a well-practice pout. "But I was just beginning to have some fun," she complained childishly.

"And your _fun _might have _killed _Faith," Angel snarled animalistically.

Buffy's naked body visibly bristled at the ancient demon's words. She looked back at the brunette slayer whose head had lolled forward. The slayer looked vulnerable and defeated. The cotton sheets piled around her naked body were rumpled and stained with blood. Faith's dark chocolate eyes were closed, and her breathing was ragged and shallow.

"I only took a little," the female vampire murmured absentmindedly as she gazed upon the bloody, naked form of her lover.

"Go, Buffy," the looming vampire stated between clenched teeth. "You've done enough damage here." Angel took a menacing step forward and balled up his fists at his sides. "And if I so much as _smell_ you around Faith _ever _again," he threatened darkly, "you'll _wish _Angelus was here to take mercy on you."

Buffy scowled at her former boyfriend as she pulled her leather mini-skirt up her slender legs and carefully stepped into her dangerously high heels. She glanced one more time at the broken Boston girl and frowned. The blonde girl knew she had gotten out of control…sloppy…messy. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.

Buffy grabbed her discarded tank top off the floor and pulled it haphazardly over her head. The golden-haired slayer shook out her hair. "This isn't over, Angel," she growled, her words a threat as well as a promise.

Without looking back at the damage she had done, the soulless vampire hastily exited the apartment bedroom. Her high-heels clicked defiantly on the hardwood floor as she retreated, leaving the soul'd vampire behind to pick up the broken pieces.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Hospitals are not for the Living

The redheaded witch sat beside the hospital bed, clutching onto a Styrofoam cup of coffee. She frowned guiltily as she gazed upon the patient attached to a heart monitor, a feeding tube, breathing machines, and a dark crimson bag of blood. The former computer whiz-turned-witch held onto the brunette woman's hand. She closed her eyes and willed some of her own energy into the broken girl, hoping to speed up her recovery.

"_This is all my fault," _the Wicca lamented to herself. _ "I should have called Angel sooner_," she silently sighed._ "If only I had tried to restore Buffy's soul before she left Sunnydale."_

Willow didn't know the exact details of what had come to pass – how Faith had ended up critically injured and in the Los Angeles hospital—but when Angel called the redhead in Sunnydale, he told her that Buffy had attacked the Boston-born slayer, rendering her unconscious, and had begun to drain her blood. The soul'd vampire had stayed with Faith as long as he could, but the Los Angeles Intensive Care Unit contained too many windows for him to extend his visit.

The shuffling of feet alerted the witch and she dropped the slayer's hand. Willow looked up to see the sympathetic face of a balding doctor. "Miss Rosenberg?" he questioned.

Willow stood up and wiped her clammy palms on the front of her jeans. "Yes, that's me," she breathed. "Please call me Willow."

"Willow, yes," the thin man said, looking briefly down at the clipboard in his hands. "The man that brought her in, a Mr. Angel, I believe, said that you would be by to see her."

The redhead nodded once. "Angel works odd hours and wasn't able to stay," she explained. "Can you tell me how she's doing?"

The doctor walked closer to the slayer's bedside and gazed down on her unconscious body. "Better," he admitted. "She's lost quite a bit of blood, so you can see we've got a transfusion going on." He tapped at the hanging blood bag absentmindedly before continuing. "The biggest concern I'm afraid is more mental than physical, however."

Willow took a seat again in the uncomfortable hospital chair. "Why do you say that? I thought the worst of her injuries were just the loss of blood."

The surgeon scratched at the back of his neck and made a face. "Whenever someone suffers any kind of accident where this amount of blood is lost, there's always a shock to the system. And with Miss Lehane's previous record – I see here she was in a coma for a few months – there's really no telling what she's going to be like when she wakes up, I'm afraid."

"But she _will _wake up though, right?" the redhead worried.

The physician pursed his thin lips. "I think so," he opined. "But the body, particularly the brain, is a mysterious thing. We don't have all the answers," he admitted. The doctor sighed when he looked at the morose on the young girl's face. "Miss Rosenberg, why don't you take a break and get something to eat. The cafeteria's no five-star restaurant, but they do have some excellent pudding."

Willow hesitated, looking between the broken slayer and the doctor. Finally, she nodded. "I suppose I could take a walk," she stated, slowly standing up. "Maybe stretch my legs for a bit." The girl squeezed the Boston-woman's hand once. "I'll just be gone for a little while, Faith," she told the comatose patient. "I'll be back in a little bit."

The black Hummer pulled up to the attendant station in the covered parking lot. The teenage boy sitting inside the parking booth squinted his eyes, but couldn't make out the driver or any passengers as all of the windows were illegally tinted. The drivers-side window rolled down to reveal a handsome, muscled black man with short, cropped hair.

Seated in the passenger's side of the vehicle was a small, attractive blonde. Her face looked grim and she held onto a decorative gift bag on her lap. They both wore sunglasses, even though the windshield and all of the vehicle's other windows would have protected the passengers from the sunlight.

"How much," the dark-skinned driver growled.

"I-I won't know until you leave," the teen boy squeaked, suddenly nervous by the strange man's sour demeanor. "It's seven dollars for the first hour and five dollars for each additional hour."

The man gripped tightly to the steering wheel and grumbled under his breath. The blonde girl lightly slapped the thick driver's muscled forearm. "Don't be so cheap, Malcolm," she chided. "It's not like we ever have to come back here."

The driver turned his head away from the teen attendant to look at the woman in the passenger seat. "I'm hungry," he complained bitterly.

"There's a cafeteria inside the hospital," the young boy offered, hoping to be helpful.

Malcolm continued to stare expectantly at the blonde beside him as if waiting for the answer to an unasked question. The female pulled her sunglasses away from her face and propped them on her forehead, pushing her hair back from her beautiful face. "Fine," she sighed, annoyed to be wasting time. "Go ahead and eat him. But _do not _get any on the interior. I mean it, Malcolm," she threatened lightly. "I just had the Hummer detailed."

The broad-shouldered man turned back to face the parking structure employee. His face was now contorted and his normally handsome features were obstructed by alarming bumps and ridges along his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

"What the –," the teenager exclaimed, taking a tentative step backwards in his booth. "What _are _you?" the young boy cried.

Malcolm snarled like a wild animal and showed his elongated canines. With lightening fast movements, he leaned out the open Hummer window and grabbed the young man by his neck and lifted him from the ground. The young teen struggled, clawing at the tight grip that threatened to squeeze the life out of him. With one easy movement, the demonic creature snapped the boy's neck and his body went lax. The vampire got out of the car quickly and threw the lifeless body into the back of the Hummer.

Malcolm's face returned to its human form as he climbed back into the driver's side of the vehicle. The blonde in the passenger seat looked displeased. "I told you to eat before we left," she complained. "I hate it when you all can't control yourselves in public."

The vampire snorted and put the car back into drive. "Well, if you could drive yourself, you wouldn't have to deal with us."

The girl crossed her arms across her chest and stuck out her bottom lip. "Whoever heard of a twenty-something who can't drive," she grumbled.

The blonde's chauffer parked the car in a wide parking spot and turned off the engine. He turned toward the young woman beside him. "Do you need me to go in with you?"

The woman shook her head as she unbuckled her seat belt. "No, you stay and eat," she commanded, jerking her head towards the backseat of the large vehicle. "I don't want to have to stop for you on the way back, so make sure you get your fill. Besides, I shouldn't be too long."

The small woman hopped out of the tall SUV and ran her palms down the front of her short, cotton skirt to smooth down the material. The young blonde mentally noted where Malcolm had parked the car – Red 2N. She grabbed the gift bag from the passenger side and slammed the car door behind her. "And don't forget," she reminded her lackey as she walked away from the vehicle. "No body fluids on the leather seats."

The girl's chunky wedge heels clicked on the concrete ground as she made her way toward the hospital's covered entrance. She pushed through the large, heavy revolving doors and found herself in the center of a modest-looking reception area that better mirrored a chain hotel rather than a Trauma Ward.

"Can I help you?" came a loud, disapproving voice. The blonde girl paused and turned on her heels to find the source of the husky, feminine voice. A slightly saggy, overweight woman dressed in light pink scrubs sat behind a reception desk.

"Can I help you?" the large station nurse repeated, looking over the front desk station with large, disapproving eyes.

Buffy grimaced, but forced a fake smile onto her painted lips. "Uh, yes. Hello there," she greeted the scowling uniformed woman. "I'm looking for a patient."

"And _your_ name?" the older woman asked expectantly.

"Why do you need to know _my _name?" the girl demanded sharply. "I'm just here to see a very sick friend."

"Because no one comes into my hospital without me knowing who they are," the formidable nurse replied, narrowing her grey eyes at the pale-looking California girl. She tapped an ink pen on the top of the desk expectantly.

"Buffy," the blonde girl answered stiffly. "My name is Buffy Summers."

The nurse raised an eyebrow, sure that the name was a fake. "Well then, _Buffy_," she smiled sickly. "Who can I help you find today?"

"Faith Lehane," the vampire declared, leaning over the desk slightly to peer at the computer behind the front reception desk. "She would have been admitted last night."

The nurse pursed her lips and her eyes scanned her monitor as she gathered the appropriate information. She scribbled a few numbers on a slip of paper and handed it to the young woman. The hospital employee inadvertently brushed her fingertips against Buffy's hand. She jerked her hand back, startled by how cold the young girl felt.

"You'll find your friend in room 3703 in the Intensive Care Ward," the nurse informed the slayer, raising her eyebrow suspiciously at the strange visitor. "Visiting hours are nearly over," she observed, "so you'd better hurry your skinny ass over there if you wanna see her today."

The undead girl gave the nurse a curt nod of welcome before walking away. Buffy had always hated hospitals. Even though she wasn't _really_ Buffy Summers, she still had all of her memories – and there were no good memories associated with hospitals. She mentally ticked off her most memorable and equally horrifying hospital visits. Being locked up in the Los Angeles psychiatric ward after burning down the Hemery High gymnasium. Her mother becoming sick and dying far before her time. Getting shot by Warren and a dark, deranged Willow pulling the bullet from her body while she lay on the Emergency Room gurney. Being hospitalized after Angel had nearly drained her to save him from the poison Faith had shot him with. Seeing a battered and bruised Faith after having stabbed her in the stomach to try and save Angel. And now she was going to once again visit her sister-Slayer in the hospital for an injury she had once again inflicted on her.

The blonde slayer followed the myriad of signs until she found herself in the Intensive Care Unit. Doctors and nurses buzzed around the hospital wing in a frenzy, too busy to notice the out-of-place visitor. Buffy traveled down a long corridor until she came to room 3703. Unsure of what she would find inside the room, she held an unnecessary breath, and walked through the partially closed door.

The room was slightly darkened, the blinds drawn so that no direct sunlight filtered into the room. No doubt Angel had already been in to visit the Boston girl, Buffy silently considered. Faith lay, unconscious or sleeping in a small hospital bed. Her normally lively and exciting body was wrapped tightly in a thin blue blanket. The brunette's hair was loose, and framed her face, fanned out on the scratchy-looking pillow on which her head rested. Her flesh appeared much paler than her normally olive-tinted skin tone. Her toned arms were bare, placed gently on top of the sterile sheet. Her white hospital gown was patterned with tiny blue flowers and inadequately covered her body, hanging loose around her neck and defined clavicle.

Buffy took a few careful steps closer to the girl in bed and set the green gift bag clenched in one hand on the ground. She hovered above the comatose patient and frowned. "I never meant for this to happen," she whispered to the unresponsive woman.

The slayer vampire stroked her chilly fingers down the girl's bare arm, purposefully avoiding the uncomfortable IVs and various tubes hooked up to Faith's veins. "I never meant to drink so much. I just…couldn't control myself," Buffy sighed sadly.

The blonde-haired girl shuddered slightly, remembering the taste of the younger woman's addictive blood. She had thought she would be able to just take a little. To only mark the girl. She certainly hadn't meant to nearly drain her. That wasn't in her plan.

"It's kinda gonna make it hard to trust me now, huh?" she observed, frowning down on the comatose girl. "But we're supposed to be together, Faith. You and me. The Chosen Two."

It was hard for the vampire to believe that the broken girl in the hospital bed was really the strong, vibrant woman from her memories. The demon within her hated these very human emotions she felt when she looked at the brunette slayer. The soulless creature wasn't Buffy Summers, but she certainly felt like she was when she looked at the Boston girl. It was so easy for the undead woman to recall every moment Buffy had ever spent with the younger slayer, even when they were hating and trying to kill each other, as if the blonde girl had always felt something more for her sister-Slayer and had kept those distant memories fresh in her mind.

"I could drain you right here," Buffy observed. She stroked her fingers along Faith's strong jawbone. "I could turn you just like how Willow turned me. It would be so easy," she murmured to herself wistfully.

"But I don't want you to regret this decision," she continued aloud, shaking her head. "I don't want you to hate me for making this decision for you. I want to make you want to become like me. I want you to want this for yourself. For _us_." The blonde set her face hard. "And I will."

The blonde vampire opened the green gift bag she had set on the ground and pulled something out of it. Buffy brought it to her face and inhaled, smelling the happy memories on the item. "I brought something for you, Fai," she smiled sweetly. Pulling back the thin hospital blanket slightly, the vampire wiggled her gift next to the Boston girl before pulling the covers back to their original position. "It's just a little something to remind you of me while you get strong again," she remarked.

Buffy leaned forward and lightly kissed the girl on the forehead, a mirror image of an action she had done years ago when she had last physically injured the younger slayer. "Get better soon, babe," she whispered.

The vampire walked towards the door of the Boston girl's hospital room and turned back, once more, and blew the unconscious woman another kiss.

"I'll be seeing you," the soulless woman promised.

The redheaded witch walked into the hospital room, serenely eating the pudding pack she had purchased at the hospital cafeteria. She resumed her seat in the oversized plastic chair near the slayer's bedside and finished scooping out the remnants of her chocolate-y snack.

Willow pulled her Kindle out of the large bag propped against the leg of her chair. She had heard that reading aloud to coma patients was beneficial for their recovery.

"So what are you in the mood for, Faith?" the girl asked aloud as she scanned her library of e-books. "_Pride and Prejudice _or _Best Lesbian Erotica 2001_?" Willow grinned at the hospital patient. "Oh don't be coy with me, Lehane. I know how you roll," she winked at the unresponsive woman.

Willow bit her bottom lip and frowned. "God, I'm an idiot," she muttered to herself. She put her Kindle down on the side table and leaned forward to rest her head in her hands.

If only she had just let Buffy die. Who knew how many others would be killed or maimed because of her rash decision? Her relationship with the golden-haired slayer had gone beyond friendship. She had always loved the Californian slayer more than as just a friend, even if she did mix up words and make new ones of her own. If it hadn't been for Buffy, the former-computer-geek-turned-powerful-Wicca would have no doubt lived a mundane and painfully uneventful life. But she hadn't loved Buffy enough to allow her to die.

The redhead sighed deeply and looked back up at the brunette girl. The witch did a double take when she saw a flash of plush pink that hadn't been there before, tucked under the thin hospital blanket. Willow stood up and walked over to the dark slayer's bedside. She pulled back the hospital sheet and pulled the odd addition away from Faith.

The witch picked up the stuffed animal, her face a mixture of shock and awe. The mangled and well-loved farm animal stared back at her with its black, beady eyes.

Willow furrowed her eyebrows together. "Mr. Gordo, what are _you _doing here?"

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"There ya go. Easy does it."

Cordelia and Gunn held the brunette slayer by the upper arms as they helped her traverse the short set of stairs into the Hyperion's hotel lobby. Faith grimaced slightly with each step. Despite her doctor's reluctance, once the dark-haired girl regained consciousness, she had insisted upon being released from the Los Angeles hospital. Now, however, the Boston girl felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment to need the assistance of Angel's crew.

The souled vampire swooped out of his back office and rushed toward the broken slayer. Since Faith had left the hospital during daylight hours, he had been forced to remain behind and send his two friends in his place to help retrieve the injured slayer. "Should she be walking already?" Angel worried aloud. "Where's that hospital wheelchair? Should I carry her down the stairs?"

Faith gave the undead man a small smile as Gunn and Cordelia eased her down the final step. "Buffy drank my blood, Angel," she reminded the ageless hero. "She didn't break my legs."

Cordelia chuckled softly from her position by the slayer's right side. "Don't give him too hard of a time, Faith," she laughed. "He's always been a little Mother Hen."

"Nice banner by the way, guys," the dark-haired slayer smirked at the large glittery 'Congratulations!' sign that hung from the ceiling. "It's a nice touch."

"Hold off on the sarcasm, will ya Lehane?" Gunn grunted, helping the fragile slayer sit on the round, red plush couch in the center of the spacious lobby. "It was the best we could do on short notice."

Faith looked around the lobby décor briefly and then studied the group of gathered friends. In addition to Angel, Gunn, and Cordelia, she was now joined by Willow and Wesley as well. Angel had insisted that the dark slayer be released into his care and that she stay at the Hyperion rather than stay back at her apartment alone. The Boston girl had balked at the idea when Cordelia and Gunn showed up at the Los Angeles hospital to pick her up, but her complaints were silenced when the former high school cheerleader reminded her that her apartment was no longer a Buffy-free zone. The redheaded witch would have to perform a spell to uninvite the soulless blonde vampire before it was safe for the Boston slayer to return to her home.

"How are you feeling, Faith?" the former Watcher asked.

The Boston girl gave the hovering Englishman a forced smile. "You know me, Wes. I'll be five by five in no time."

"So when do we get to kill that little blonde bitch for messing up my girl?" asked the LA native.

"Gunn!" Cordelia chastised, slapping the demon fighter hard on the shoulder.

The tall, brooding man shrugged nonchalantly. "What?" he questioned innocently, his eyes scanning the group of friends. "I only met her a few times and she was kind of a bitch."

Angel shook his head slowly. "Gunn," he stated calmly. "I don't want you going after her. She's too strong," he warned. "Buffy's not your run-of-the-mill vampire. She's a vampire _and _a Slayer."

Gunn hung his head and scuffed his shoes against the hardwood floor. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled dismissively. "I won't go after her alone."

"I should contact Giles and the Council," Wesley clipped. "I'm sure the Watcher Diaries have some information about this kind of thing. It's not the first time a Slayer has been Turned, that's for sure."

"No!" Faith insisted, speaking up for the first time. "Keep the Council out of this. They'll just make an even bigger mess. We can handle this ourselves. You _owe _me at least that, Wes."

The former Watcher sighed deeply and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his dark slacks. "Fine," he conceded. "I won't inform the Council about this. But I must warn you," he continued, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly, "if they haven't heard that Buffy is a vampire already, they soon will. This isn't the kind of thing that will go unnoticed for long. And they have strict protocol about Slayers who have been Turned."

"You mean killing her, don't you?" Faith glowered.

"It's not really Buffy though," Wesley pointed out with emotion. "Even after that creature…nearly killed you, Faith, and you're still ready to defend her?"

Faith snapped her head toward the redheaded witch. "What about returning her Soul, Red?"

All eyes moved to rest on the fidgeting Wicca as if suddenly remembering that there was an option besides killing Buffy. The witch had remained silent ever since Faith's return. She was unsure if the vampire version of Buffy had told the Boston girl that she was responsible for all of this, and Willow didn't know what to expect from the often-volatile brunette slayer.

"I-I don't know," the redhead sputtered nervously, uneasy by all the expectant faces now looking at her. "Returning Angel's soul wasn't an issue because he had already had one because of the Gypsy curse. I-I've never tried to soul a vampire for the first time."

The redhead was fairly certain she could in fact return Buffy's soul to the undead body. But Willow kept her explanation and excuses brief. She chose for the moment to withhold the additional information the soulless vampire had informed her about Buffy being at peace in Heaven. If they returned the slayer's soul, not only would they be ripping the California slayer from Heaven for a _second _time, but Buffy would now be forced to share a body with a demon.

The brooding vampire sighed and raked his fingers through his gelled hair. When he and Buffy had dated, he had sometimes privately entertained the idea of the slayer becoming like him. But in truth, Angel had loved Buffy's humanity and would not have wanted to force upon her the kind of lifestyle that he had endured the past few centuries. For him, the decision was simple. They needed to kill the demon that inhabited Buffy's body. But he wouldn't decide Buffy's fate. Not with the Boston-born slayer so deeply involved now. This was a decision she would have to make for herself. Angel feared that if he went behind Faith's back and destroyed the soulless vampire, the dark slayer would quickly fall apart.

"We should make a decision soon about this, Willow," Angel cautioned. The ageless man instinctively knew the redheaded witch wasn't telling them the entire truth about what had happened in Sunnydale. But now was not the time for confrontation. "Without a conscience," he reminded her, "there's no telling what this super-vampire will do."

Faith's body began to sag slightly on the red circular couch. The Boston girl suddenly felt drained by the conversation happening around and above her. Angel noticed the lack of energy in the normally vibrant slayer.

"Faith?" he called out. "Are you feeling alright?"

The raven-haired slayer rubbed at her brown eyes. "Just a little tired, is all," she admitted.

"It's been a long couple of days for you," he observed. Angel nodded toward the staircase. "Why don't you get some sleep? We won't make any decisions about Buffy without you, okay?"

Faith nodded and, standing up by herself, hefted the small duffle bag that held a few of her personal possessions. When the vampire made a move toward her, she held up a hand. "I can handle the stairs on my own, Big Guy. But thanks."

Angel opened his mouth to protest her stubborn independence so soon after being released from the hospital, but the slayer cut him off. "I mean it, Angel," the brunette woman insisted. "Just let me get my forty winks, and I'll be five by five in the morning."

And without another word to the group, Faith turned to slowly ascend the Hyperion's staircase toward the room Angel kept furnished for her.

The vampire tentatively knocked on the hotel door. The undead man looked back and forth down the hallway, anxious to get beyond the threshold of his employer's room before anyone saw him lingering in the hallway. The door swung open immediately and an impatient-looking blonde wrapped only in a flimsy bath towel stood in the doorframe. Her light blonde locks were haphazardly thrown up off of her angelic-looking face and her flawless neck.

"Well?" she demanded, tapping her bare foot as she waited for the undead man to find his voice. "I was just about to hop in the shower, so make this quick."

The demon coughed, clearing his throat and casting his eyes down to the paisley-patterned carpeting of the luxury suite. "The Slayer's been moved from the hospital," he told the half-naked woman. "I followed Angel back to the Hyperion. Looks like he's keeping her there instead of her old apartment."

Buffy frowned slightly. "I had a feeling he would do that. My Angel – always trying to be the hero and ride up on his fucking white horse."

"Well, from the looks of it," the vampire informer stated, "you have more to deal with than just Angel."

The undead slayer scowled and stepped to the side. "Come in," she growled at the man in the hallway. "Tell me everything you know."

The vampire walked through the threshold of the fancy hotel room, past the blonde, and took a seat on a leather couch in the center of the impressive suite. He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans even though he didn't sweat. But being around a former Slayer, albeit an undead one, still made him nervous.

"These are some nice digs," he observed, looking around at the spacious rooms.

Buffy waved a hand dismissively. "I ate a reality star and took over her bank account."

The vampire scratched at his chin. "Not a bad plan," he admired. "I've been thinking about –,"

"So what else," the blonde vampire interrupted. She had no patience for small talk or friendships with other vampires. Even though she wasn't really Buffy Summers or the Slayer anymore, there was still some part of her that became unsettled around other vampires. It was as if every basic instinct lingering from her humanity told her not to trust any of the undead.

Buffy sat down on the edge of a wooden office desk. Her short white towel slid up her lightly-bronzed thighs.

"There's a bunch of 'em there," her hired spy informed her, trying his best not to openly leer at her exposed skin. "Angel and a bunch of other humans. It looks like his usual crew, with a new addition – some redheaded girl. I could help you assemble a team for a minimal fee," he added. "You're gonna need numbers against that crew. They might not look it, but they're pretty tough."

"I don't need you to tell me how tough Angel's team is," Buffy snapped at the vampire. "I'm fully aware of their capabilities." She tugged slightly at her towel, covering her breasts more. "I can't believe Willow's here though," she mused out loud. "Thought she woulda stayed in Sunnydale like a good little Wicca after the last time we met."

"Not to be nosy or nothing," the vampire hesitantly prodded, "but what's this big interest in the Other Slayer? I know you're kinda new to this game, but normally our kind tries to _avoid _Slayers, not seek 'em out."

Buffy's face scrunched into a deep frown. Ever since she had left Sunnydale, hunting down and Turning the Boston slayer had consumed her every thought. It was as though the vamped-out slayer was obsessed with the idea. Faith Lehane needed to die, but she couldn't just _kill _her. The dark-haired girl had to become like Buffy. Until she successfully Turned the Boston-born slayer, the soulless demon would be haunted by Buffy Summer's human emotions.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly one of _your kind_," the blonde woman snapped bitterly. "Don't worry about me, though. I can handle a Slayer."

The undead informant shrugged slightly. "Alright, I get it. It's none of my business." The vampire leaned back finally on the couch and got comfortable. "So does the Slayer have any friends or family?" he prodded. "Maybe we could kidnap one of them to bring her out? Ya know, get her by herself."

Buffy shook her head. "No family. And no friends to really speak of unless you consider Angel and his white hats. But that wouldn't get Faith alone."

"So what's her weakness then?" the undead man asked, leaning forward.

The blonde woman frowned slightly and stared blankly ahead. A thought suddenly fluttered into her mind. "_I'm _her weakness," she stated.

The man on the couch squirmed uneasily as the soulless girl remained silent for a few awkward moments. Finally, Buffy blinked twice and shook her head. "Well, if that's all the information you have for me," she drawled, her eyes becoming more focused, "then we're done here."

The blonde pulled an unmarked envelope out of the top desk drawer, careful not to show anymore skin to the vampire. "Here," she said curtly, shoving the sealed envelope in the direction of her spy. "You'll find you've been well-compensated."

The vampire stood from the couch and took the envelope from the slayer, allowing his hand to linger on her own momentarily. "We could have always worked out a non-monetary payment, ya know," he leered, eyeballing her svelte form.

Buffy snorted and waved a dismissive hand. "You can go now," she sneered disapprovingly.

The vampire scowled and readjusted his belt. The nameless undead man tucked the envelope into the back of his jeans between his pants and the bottom of his tucked in dress-shirt. "Well, you know where to find me if you ever require my…services again," he grinned cockily, still eyeballing the former slayer.

The ageless creature turned his back on the slayer and walked toward the hotel suite's exit. And then he exploded into a cloud of fine dust.

The wooden stake fell to the carpeted floor with a soft, muted sound where there had previously been a man.

Buffy stood up from her position on the desk and padded over to the pile of dust. The blonde retrieved the discarded envelope of money from the ground and returned it to the desk drawer from where it had originated. She picked up the room phone on the polished, mahogany desk and pressed a series of numbers.

"Front Desk?" she asked into the receiver. "I need you to send up Housekeeping. My room is a mess."

Faith rinsed out her mouth and spit into the porcelain sink. She placed the extra toothbrush she kept at Angel's place into the toothbrush holder and paused to stare at her reflection in the vanity mirror.

It had only been a few days since she had learned that her sister-Slayer was now one of the undead, yet it felt as though months had passed. When she had regained consciousness and found herself strapped to a hospital bed, the Boston Slayer had originally believed that she had been unconscious for much longer than twenty-four hours. The first time she awoke from a coma, her immediate thoughts had been about Graduation Day and killing Buffy. This time when she became lucid, however, her brain centered on _saving _Buffy, worrying that perhaps Angel and his friends had already killed her.

Her mind wasn't entirely settled yet, however. The brunette girl couldn't yet decide if she wanted to save Buffy or kill the demon that possessed her undead body. If Willow was able to return Buffy's soul, then they would all get a second chance – a new opportunity that had been denied by prison and by death. Buffy would be alive again, and now that Faith knew the blonde woman had shared feelings for her back in Sunnydale, the young slayer could pursue the Californian with confidence.

But bringing Buffy back would not be without its unique consequences and complications. The demon in Buffy's body would not be silenced so easily. The brunette worried that it was selfish of her to want Buffy back, no matter in what form. To truly love Buffy might mean letting her go.

The brunette girl padded into the bedroom and pealed off her clothing in favor of a worn t-shirt and boxer shorts. Faith pulled back the covers of the double bed and gingerly eased herself between the cotton sheets. Her Slayer healing was quickly helping her recover from the incident with Buffy, but the Boston girl still felt fragile and vulnerable, albeit if only emotionally and mentally.

Faith stared at the ceiling fan above the bed and tried to lose herself to the rhythmic and hypnotic twirl of blades, but her body remained tense and unsettled. She blew out a loud, frustrated sigh into the air and threw the covers off of her agitated body. The Boston girl stalked toward the corner of the room where she had discarded her small suitcase. She bent at the waist and rummaged for the one specific item she knew would help her through the long night. Finding what she had been looking for, Faith returned to the comfortable mattress.

The Boston girl curled into a tight ball on her side, pulling her knees up to her chest. She hugged the plush animal close to her body and buried her nose into the worn and tattered toy. Breathing in deeply, she could just make out the faint scent of Buffy's delicate perfume. Faith closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into the pink, stuffed pig.

"G'night, B," she murmured into the empty room.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Instinct

The crimson liquid felt heavy on the brunette woman's tongue. She closed her eyes and obeyed the primal instinct to bite deeper and suck harder. The muffled screams did nothing to halt her drive or sate the burning thirst that ravaged her raw throat. A hand at the back of her neck urged her on to satisfy her raging hunger, fingers brushing delicately through the brunette's tresses.

The silken blood flowed freely down her esophagus, rushing hot in rhythmic gushes and pulses with every weakening heartbeat of the woman's fragile victim. She could feel the life force, the energy, of the slight form clasped tightly within her vise-like hold lessen with every swab of her tongue against the small perforated holes.

_The tender hand that had been gently stroking the back of her head now roughly pulled on her wavy locks, yanking her mouth away from the addictive and maddening substance. The brown-haired girl hungrily licked at the corners of her mouth, savoring every last drop._

"_Don't be greedy, baby," a feminine voice mockingly chastised. Faith's eyes refocused on the face of the angelic-looking elder slayer whose mouth was curled into a strange smile. _

_Faith looked down at the body still clutched tightly in her arms and gasped aloud when she recognized her own pale face and figure. Her dark chocolate irises stared blankly into space, her thick pouting lips lax, her mouth slightly parted. Two small rivers of deep red blood trailed down her long neck, disappearing between her naked breasts._

_Buffy remained close and brushed the dark, wavy tresses away from the back of Faith's neck. "I told you I'd make you want it," she chuckled darkly before sinking her elongated canines into the Boston slayer's flesh._

The dark-haired slayer woke up abruptly, jolting her upper torso upright in bed, her arms and legs flailing as though she was desperately treading water. Her chest felt like it was on fire from the inside, so she hastily peeled off the heavy t-shirt in which she had slept, letting the cool air hit her sticky skin. Her hand instinctively went towards the burning sensation in the hollow of her chest and her fingertips ran across the two shallow scars perched on top of her naked right breast.

Faith fingered the two shallow holes and sighed sadly. She looked toward her west-facing window and, noting the sunlight peaking around the heavy blinds, the dark slayer pulled the heavy comforter over her head and went back to sleep.

A deep chuckle echoed in the air as Faith walked down the stairs to the first floor. "Well look who decided to join the living," Gunn laughed. He looked hesitantly at his boss who stood next to him in the lobby of the Hyperion. "And you know…the _not._"

"I was worried you'd fallen into another coma," Angel joked lightly, ignoring the other man's verbal slip, as the Boston girl made her way down the staircase. "You slept all through the day."

Faith blushed. "Sorry. Rough night," she grunted, walking over to the two men with as much dignity as possible. She ran her fingers through her sleep-tussled tresses. "Where is everybody?" the slayer asked, looking around the nearly empty space.

"Willow, Wes, and Cordie went over to your apartment to un-Buffy-fy it," Gunn noted. "Safety in numbers, I guess. We're holding down the fort until then."

The telephone jangled loudly behind the hotel reception desk and Angel picked it up on the second ring. "Angel Investigations," he answered into the receiver.

"_Angel?_" came a frazzled feminine voice on the other end of the line._ "Thank God you're there. It's Anne. At the shelter."_

"Anne?" Angel furrowed his handsome features. "What's wrong?"

"_There's a gang of…of vampires here," _the blonde do-gooder reported in hushed tones. _"We're all trapped down in the basement. Luckily one of the kids had their cell phone with them, or I'd never have gotten a hold of you."_

"We'll be right there," the soul'd Champion promised. Angel hung up without another word.

"So where are we going, Boss?" Faith smiled easily, leaning against the front desk.

"_You're _staying here," Angel insisted, gathering a few weapons within easy reach. "Gunn and I are going out. A group of vampires are holding some kids hostage at the shelter a few blocks away. That was Anne, the woman who runs the place."

"I'm not gonna just sit on the bench and watch, Coach," the Boston girl proclaimed. "I told ya all I needed was some sleep and then I'd be good as new."

Gunn nudged the vampire. "Might be nice to have a Slayer with us if it's a big group of vamps," he prodded.

Angel sighed darkly. "Fine," he grunted, realizing the taller man was right. He glared at the Boston girl. "But don't you _dare _get yourself killed."

The three demon-hunters crept through the blackness of night, exploring the outside of the unsuspecting walk-up that served as a shelter for runaway teens.

"What idiot invited a group of vamps in after hours, I wonder?" Gunn whispered in hushed tones as the three looked for signs of life and death through the blinded exterior windows. The ground floor appeared empty and quiet, unusual for the popular teen home.

A flash of blonde hair caught Faith's eye and she tugged at Angel's elbow as they crouched down under a windowsill outside. "I saw someone up there," the brunette whispered nodding toward the window above them.

The three members of Angel's team stood up together and peered hesitantly through the first floor window.

"Guess we know the answer now," Gunn muttered under his breath when he recognized the blonde woman traipsing around the first floor alone, her beautiful face marred with a look of annoyance. "Who's gonna deny lettin' _that _girl in?"

The three quickly crouched back down when the California-born vampire turned in the direction of their window.

"Fuck," Faith muttered angrily, nervously raking her fingers through her loose hair. "She already knows we're here, I bet. She can probably feel us lurking around."

Angel blew out an angry sigh and pulled himself to his feet. "Let's get this over with then," he ordered, walking towards the front door.

"I'm impressed, Angel," came a cool, feminine voice as the souled vampire walked across the threshold. "I thought it would have taken you much longer to get here."

The hardened vampire clenched the weapon in his hand and set his jaw in a determined grimace. "Just let the kids go, Buffy. There's no need for anyone to get hurt."

"If you would have kept your nose out of my business, _Darling,_" the soulless vampire pouted,"then I wouldn't have the need for these kind of theatrics."

Angel grit his teeth as he stared at the form of his ex-girlfriend, her blood no longer warm in her veins. "What do you want?" he scowled.

"You know perfectly well, Hero," Buffy sneered. "I want _her,_" she proclaimed, pointing a finger at the Boston-born slayer as she walked through the front door.

"Never gonna happen," Gunn growled, walking up next to Angel's side.

Buffy smiled smugly at the startled slayer, noticing that her offensive stance had momentarily faltered. "Kill me or join me, Faith," the blonde vampire declared, holding her hands open at her sides. "There is no in between."

The noise of scuffling feet on wooden steps drew everyone's attention toward the cellar door. Anne and two frightened-looking teenagers appeared, with two vampires climbing the stairs behind the trio.

"When do we get to eat?" the broad-shouldered vampire growled at their blonde leader as he nudged the three sacrificial lambs toward the gathered group. "All these pathetic humans are making me hungry."

"You eat when I say you eat," the former slayer turned and snapped angrily at her narrow-minded lackey.

"Where's the rest of the kids?" Angel demanded, scanning the faces of the three hostages.

"They're all still downstairs," Anne proclaimed quickly. "And there's at least another three vampires down there with them," she worried aloud.

The second vampire, a shorter man with spiked hair, backhanded the shelter's caregiver. Anne gave a startled cry and fell hard onto the hardwood floors. "That'll teach ya for speakin' outta turn, _human,_" the soulless monster jeered, lumbering menacingly over the blonde woman's fallen body.

"You son of a bitch," Gunn growled, launching himself at the offending demon.

Faith grabbed Anne and picked her off the ground. "Get out of here _now_," the slayer commanded, helping them dodge the beefy fist of the larger of the two lackeys.

"But my kids!" the woman protested, her blue eyes wide and afraid.

Faith pushed her toward the front door. "We'll save them, don't worry. Just get yourself out of here," she sternly ordered.

The dark slayer shoved Anne out the front door and looked back toward the quickly escalating skirmish. Buffy had disappeared and Gunn and Angel were now faced off with the two remaining vampires. Angel grappled with the larger of the two while Gunn made quick work of the more inept lackey.

"Faith!" Angel yelled, garnering the Boston girl's attention. The soul'd vampire crunched his fist into the side of his opponent's face. "Downstairs!"

Faith gave the ageless man a curt nod and hastily jogged down the narrow, dark staircase into the basement. Her wooden stake quickly found its way into the heart of the guard standing at the bottom of the staircase. The unsuspecting vampire exploded around her weapon and the dark-haired woman pushed onwards to find the rest of the captives and their undead captors.

Turning a narrow corner, the young slayer found a huddled group of misfit teenagers and two more vampires. Faith remained hidden in the shadows momentarily to observe the situation. The two demons appeared to be arguing amongst themselves over the fate of their human meals.

"Well I say we drain 'em all before that blonde bitch gets back down here," an olive toned woman complained to her undead colleague, defiantly resting her hands on her hips.

The other vampire, a dark-skinned man dressed in black leathers, scowled at the female. "That _blonde bitch _could dust you before you even got your fangs out," he warned menacingly.

The woman waved a dismissive hand. "Malcolm," she purred, "I can't believe you're whipped already. I mean, what's so scary about her? It's not like she's an Ancient? She's younger than all of us."

"She might be young," the wide-shouldered vampire conceded with a nod, "but she's still a Slayer."

"Did someone order a Slayer?" Faith called out, her husky voice echoing in the dank crawl space. The two vampire's faces morphed as they snapped their heads toward the sound of the new voice. The Boston girl took a step closer to the two demons, stepping out of the shadows, and twirling her wooden weapon in her right hand. Cocking her head to the side, she smiled at her two startled opponents. "Cause I'm all the Slayer you're ever gonna need," she leered.

The female of the two licked the tip of her tongue across her sharp canines. "Oooo," she cooed with a malicious smile. "I was hoping for a snack. I bet you taste sweet, cutie." The woman growled and launched herself toward the dark-haired slayer.

Faith knew she had to quickly distract and destroy the two animalistic creatures before any of the captive teens got in the way or were injured. Normally the Boston woman liked to play with her prey a little before dusting them, but in these cramped surroundings, she couldn't risk the vampires turning the hostage situation into a blood bath.

The dark-haired woman deflected the uncannily strong vampire's attack, crushing the palm of her hand into the bridge of the olive-skinned woman's nose. "You bitch!" the vampire shrieked, holding her hands against the broken cartilage. With the female attacker momentarily stunned, Faith turned her attention to the broad-shouldered demon.

Malcolm cracked his knuckles and then twisted his neck, loudly popping his vertebrae as well. "Ms. Summers didn't say anything about not eatin' Slayers, so I guess it's your lucky day."

The female vampire regained her composure, the pain from her broken nose momentarily forgotten. "Let me have this one, Malcolm," she snarled, her yellow eyes never leaving the rogue slayer's form. "I've never had a Slayer before."

Angel clomped noisily down the stairs to help out the Boston girl with the two deadly vampires. Malcolm gave the newcomer a wide grin. "Alright, girl," he chuckled darkly at the feminine vampire's eagerness. "You can have the Slayer. I've always wanted to throw down with the great Angelus anyway."

Wordlessly, Angel threw himself at the large, black vampire hoping to keep the recently hospitalized slayer and the runaway shelter's inhabitants safe. The impressive vampire deftly disarmed the soul'd demon; Angel's machete flew out of his hands and lodged itself deep into a plaster wall. Malcolm grinned wildly at his minor success.

Angel kicked in the direction of Malcolm's head, but the sure-footed attack barely grazed the beefier vampire's jaw line when he maneuvered out of the way. "You losin' a step, Old Man?" he taunted, egging the ancient vampire on. "Slowin' down? I thought you'd be more of a challenge."

The soul'd Champion's face morphed into harsh ridges and bumps and his normally dark eyes transitioned into a pale yellow color. "I'm just getting warmed up," Angel snarled, snapping his jaws like a wild animal.

Faith and the female vampire were locked together, hands grasping hands, struggling, but neither woman gaining the edge. The dark-haired slayer strained against the strength of the other woman.

"I can see why Summers is always talkin' about you, gorgeous," the vamped out woman purred, her face dangerously close to the Boston girl's. "If you taste half as good as you look…damn girl," she hummed. "That Buffy ain't too bad to look at either," she continued with a smirk. "Might have to get me some of that fine pussy after I kill you."

Faith felt a vibration rumble possessively in her throat. She closed her eyes momentarily, in anticipation of her next move. "Shit, this is gonna hurt," she mumbled to herself before head butting the female vamp. The unexpected attack caused the soulless woman to stumble backwards slightly and lose her grip on the Boston girl's wrists. Now with more space to move, Faith swept a long, leather-clad leg at the still-stumbling vampire. Her heavy boot connected with the vampire's chest-plate and Faith could hear a slight cracking sound on impact.

The Boston girl rushed toward the pained vampire and shoved her right shoulder into the woman's clavicle, smiling when she heard the splintering of undead bones. The vampire fell onto the cold, cement ground only to be quickly hoisted up by Faith's strong grip and thrown into the closest cinder-block wall. The woman crumbled slowly to the ground, groaning loudly from the repeated attacks.

Spying what she needed jutting from a plaster wall, Faith ripped Angel's machete out of the crumbling partition and separated the vampire's head from her body with one even slice of the elongated blade. The dark slayer panted hard and looked in the direction of the soul'd vampire just in time to see Angel ripping the dark man's head from his neck. Malcolm's body burst into a cloud of dust, followed immediately by his decapitated head.

"Where's Gunn?" Angel asked, breathing unnecessarily hard. He brushed his palms together, ridding his hands of residual vampire dust. His face had smoothened once again to his human features upon defeating Malcolm. "I thought he came down here?" The undead man looked around the cramped cellar space for the often-reckless demon fighter, but found only the faces of confused and frightened teenagers.

The slayer's eyes went wide. "He's gotta be upstairs. With Buffy," she cried, scrambling towards the staircase.

Finding the first floor empty, the slayer clambered upstairs to the second floor to find Gunn and Buffy battling in one of the larger bunkrooms. The dark-skinned man wielded a large axe, swinging it haphazardly around the room. A wooden bed frame appeared smashed and a lamp broken from his misguided attacks. The lithe vampire easily dodged every thrust and crushing blow, yet appeared to be holding back. Buffy took the defensive route, not bothering to strike back against the man's larger frame, as if she was waiting for something.

When the soulless creature spotted the dark-haired slayer just beyond the collective bedroom's threshold, her hazel-green eyes flashed with desperation and fear. "Faith!" the blonde exclaimed, holding her hands up in a defensive motion as Gunn hefted the heavy tool above his head.

Acting on instinct upon seeing her sister-Slayer in trouble, Faith knocked the dangerous weapon out of Gunn's hands with a quick kick. Her heavy boots hit the surprised man's hands, causing the axe to fall to the ground and to skid under one of the room's bunk beds.

The taller man turned to look at his colleague. "Are you crazy?" he yelled, his handsome features twisted in annoyance. "What are you doing?"

Faith clenched her right hand into a tight fist and cocked her small, capable hand backwards. She punched Gunn in the face, knocking him onto the floor.

The blonde vampire walked up behind the dark-haired slayer with a wide grin. "It's nice to know you still care, Faithy," she laughed, looking down at the fallen man.

Faith stared down in surprise at Gunn. The injured man moaned quietly and rolled onto his side. "I-I…" she sputtered, unable to form a complete thought.

The soulless creature suddenly grabbed the distracted Boston girl by the collar of her jean jacket and crushed her lips against Faith's startled mouth. The raven-haired slayer moaned and instinctively pulled the smaller girl's frame tighter against her own body. Buffy thrust her tongue into the younger slayer's open and inviting mouth, causing the taller woman to whimper and desperately grope the blonde's pert backside in her strong hands.

"You taste like Heaven," the vampire breathed, pulling away from the slayer's face. "Or so I hear," she smirked.

Faith stood helpless and breathless before Buffy, lost in her hazel-green eyes. Wasn't this the way things should have always been? Wouldn't a Forever with Buffy be better than this mortal existence? The brunette turned her head when she heard Angel's heavy footsteps enter the bedroom.

"What happened in here?" the ancient vampire demanded when he saw Gunn on the ground and the two slayers wrapped in each other's arms.

"Guess that's my cue to leave," the blonde demon snickered, giving her former boyfriend a wink.

Buffy pushed the dark slayer further away and ran towards the open second floor window. Pulling her svelte form into a tight ball, she jumped out of the window and landed softly on the thick grass below. Turning once more to look back at the runaway shelter and the slayer within its walls, Buffy escaped, running away into the darkness.

"What the hell happened to you?" Cordelia demanded as she watched Gunn swoop past her toward the back kitchen in search of an ice pack. The former high school cheerleader looked back toward the front door of the Hyperion to see a defeated Angel and Faith lumber in close behind.

"What happened to Gunn's face?" Wesley asked from his position next to Cordelia.

Angel lumbered towards the two and noisily set down his machete on the reception countertop. "Faith punched him." The vampire disappeared into his office momentarily.

Cordelia watched her brooding employer vanish and then looked back at Wesley. "Does this mean she's Evil again?" she deadpanned. "Cause I bet those repeated knocks to the head can't be that good for her sanity."

Faith sat down in an angry huff on the overstuffed red couch next to Willow and crossed her arms across her chest. Willow looked up briefly, but then returned her gaze back to the pages of her book. Although Faith had yet to confront her, the redhead still felt uneasy around the Boston slayer knowing that she was responsible for the young slayer's hospitalization.

"Will someone _please _tell me what happened?" the part-time actress whined loudly.

Gunn reappeared from the back kitchen with a large ice pack in his hand. "Those vamps weren't just any 'ol vamps," he scowled. "They had themselves a leader. A foxy-lookin' blonde leader."

Willow's eyes went wide and she set her book down next to her. "_Buffy _was holding those kids hostage?"

Gunn glowered. "And apparently Blondie did it just to get our attention. All of this is just a game to her."

The sound of thunder exploded in the distance. A soft rain began to beat against the front windows of the Hyperion's windows.

"_I can't believe you punched me_," Gunn bellowed at Faith, holding the ice pack up to his chiseled and now-bruised jaw. The dark skinned man glared menacingly at the Boston slayer. "If I didn't know you could kick my ass, I'd totally kick yours." He loomed over the seated girl aggressively. "But it might be fun to try anyway."

Faith jumped up from her seated position, gnashing her teeth and scrunching her hands into tight fists. "Any day, Gunn," she snarled, leaning forward and encroaching on the taller man's personal space. "Any day."

"Stop acting like children, you two," Angel growled, reappearing from his office. "Gunn, I _told you _not to go after Buffy by yourself. It's too dangerous. And Faith," he yelled, turning to accost the Boston slayer, "keep your fists to yourself or next time I'm leaving you behind."

A loud banging echoed in the background, as though someone was pounding on the front entrance to the hotel, but the noises failed to interrupt the group's argument.

"Gunn was going to _kill her_, Angel," Faith defended her actions. "That wasn't in the plan. We still haven't decided what to do about her."

The banging on the front door of the hotel continued, and Willow slipped away unnoticed. As the redhead made her way over to the front entrance, the knocking continued, yet the group of demon-hunters continued to fight amongst themselves.

"Oh, and _swappin' spit_ with that vampire _was_ the plan?" Gunn spat venomously. "You make me sick, Lehane."

Willow opened the heavy front doors and gasped when she saw the beautiful blonde woman standing on the other side. Her blonde hair was plastered to the sides of her face, clearly having been caught by the sudden rainstorm. Her jeans looked soaked through and muddy and her top clung to her slight torso. The heavy mascara framing her eyes ran down her delicate facial features.

"Who is it, Willow?" Cordelia called out, attempting to look around Gunn's lanky frame.

Willow took a step backwards, away from the dangerous vampire. A hand went up to her mouth in surprise. "It-It's Buffy," the Wicca rasped in amazement.

"Good lord," Wesley muttered sourly from his position behind the reception desk. "Haven't we had enough of _her_ tonight?"

"Out of my way, Willow," Angel ordered as he stormed noisily in the direction of the damp slayer. "It's time I finally end this." The undead champion grabbed the machete from its position on the reception desk.

"Angel, don't!" The Boston girl called out, holding up a hand to halt the souled demon. The undead man paused his attack momentarily to look in the direction of the protesting brunette.

"I'm sorry, Faith," Angel growled darkly. "But just become she _looks _like Buffy is no reason to keep her alive. It's our duty to stop her from hurting the innocent."

"Oh my God," Faith moaned, her eyes rolling back slightly. "I-I can _feel _her." The dark brunette clutched tightly onto the lobby counter to keep from falling over.

Angel gasped as he looked back and forth between the two slayers, realizing to what Faith was referring. His clenched hands went lax, allowing the unwieldy weapon in his right hand to clatter noisily to the hardwood floor.

Willow's eyes went wide and she turned back to look at the softly crying woman still standing uninvited on the other side of the threshold. "Buffy?" the red-haired witch asked softly. She tentatively reached out, crossing the barrier, and held the silent girl by her upper arms. "Buffy?" she called again, searching the hazel-green eyes that continued to drip with tears. "Is that _you _in there?"

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Flashback…Three Months Previously

_The blonde removed her feet from the cushioned seating, settling them back on the ground. She eyeballed the Wicca woman with a strange hunger in her eyes and licked her lips. "Return her soul, eh? Well, what are ya gonna do now?" she taunted quietly. "Return her soul to this body? Banish her from Heaven again?" _

_Buffy abruptly stood up from her seat and took a few steps dangerously closer to the witch. "Only this time she won't be returning to a live body," she continued. "This time she'll be forced to roommate with the undead." _

She stopped, a few feet from the trembling Wicca and lasciviously licked her red lips. "So what's it gonna be, Willow?"

**POV Buffy**

The whole house reeks of humanity and I want nothing more than to snap this girl's neck to make it stop. I can smell the fear radiating off of her porcelain skin and it eggs me on to frighten her just a little more. How far can I push her with just my words? I know she's got the Power to banish me immediately from this house, or at least turn me into a frog, but I doubt she'll do anything like that to someone who looks and sounds just like her best friend.

But as I stand here, the seconds ticking by, I can't bring myself to eat the delicious-smelling witch. She fidgets nervously and even though I know she's an all-powerful Wicca, I can't help but see her as the awkward Willow Rosenberg I met my sophomore year of high school on my first day at Sunnydale High. All those pink fluffy sweaters and plaid jumpsuits.

I shake my head, disgusted with myself. No, those are Buffy's memories. Not mine.

I snap my head in the direction of the staircase when I hear two solid feet creaking on the floors. "Dawn!" I yell out, knowing it's the girl without even having to see her face. "Why don't you come join us down here? It's about to get interesting."

"Buffy?" the tall teenager calls out, trying to hide herself behind the wooden railing like she did when she was small. Damn it. She never was small, I remind myself bitterly. She's not even your real sister! She never was!

"Buffy?" she calls again. "Is any part of you still inside there?" the teen asks hopefully.

"Dawnie!" Willow yells, her eyes frantic. "Go lock yourself in the bathroom again. I'll handle this," she promises.

I snarl animalistically at the redhead and she shrinks backwards slightly. Images of sinking my teeth into that pale, white neck flood my eyes, but I can't follow through. It's like there's an invisible barrier preventing me from attacking her. The best I can do is injure her with my words.

"You ripped her out of Heaven, Willow," I say again for good measure. "Why did you think she was so distant when you brought her back? She wasn't in any Hell-dimension," I spit, enjoying the pained expression my words have brought to her innocent face. "She lied to you all about that so you wouldn't feel guilty. Buffy always had to be the martyr, even when it didn't matter. But everyday here – everyday here with you – was Hell for her. Buffy was better off dead."

My words have their desired effect and the talented Wicca is sobbing again. Her hands fly up to her eyes and her shoulders slump forward with grief. And despite the fact that I'm the one responsible for her despair, a part of me wants to reach out and console her. I have an aching need to hold her shaking body and still the quiet sobs. I want to rush up the staircase to the second floor and apologize to Dawn for frightening her. I want to make everything right again.

Alarmed and disgusted by these unexpected emotions, I rush out of the house. Buffy Summers' house. Buffy Summers is dead.

I sit on top of a gravestone, idly sucking on the dismembered limb of an unsuspecting coed. His disfigured body lies in a crumpled heap at my feet. In life I was never this hungry, but now it seems like the more I feed, the more I crave it. The death. The blood.

I toss the wasted appendage on the soft grass and hop off the ancient tomb, stepping over the bulky form of my latest victim. If that frat boy hadn't drunk so much tonight he would have had a better chance to run away from me. In fact, the kill was almost too easy to be truly satisfying.

A familiar, yet unexpected voice startles me out of my silent lament. "You must not've gotten the memo, Pet," the thick accent drawls. "But this cemetery is my turf."

When I turn around and he sees my face, the bleach blonde vampire drops his brown bag of groceries on the cemetery ground, its contents of hard liquor and Marlboro Reds spilling out.

"B-Buffy," he sputters, his dark eyes wide with surprise. "Y-you're back."

I give him that patented half-smile just for old times. "Not exactly, William."

"So it worked then?" he asks, his voice full of amazement. "You're…a vampire?"

I scrunch my face and morph into my demonic visage. Spike takes a step toward me and reaches out, his fingertips trailing along the hard ridges and bumps as if he needs to feel the evil in me to truly believe I'm back. "Amazing," he breathes. Suddenly remembering, he looks past me to my forgotten snack. "I see you've been feeding," he observes.

I allow myself to transform back into my human form. "Jealous?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "You must miss it, being all chip'd. I gotta say, I can understand how you vampires get off on this stuff," I rave. "What a rush, crushing someone's esophagus. It makes me wanna finger paint with blood."

He ignores my rant and looks thoughtful instead. "So I guess this means the Super Friends didn't find your Soul." He leans over and begins to pick up his discarded groceries.

I toss my loose hair back slightly and laugh. "A prize to the man in black," I jeer.

"Did you eat them too?" he asks quietly, leaning the bag against a tilted grave marker.

"So what if I did?" I smirk with my hands on my small hips. "Did you come here to lecture me, Spike? About Good and Bad and everything in between?"

Spike looks slightly agitated at my attitude. "What about the Little Bit?" he demands.

I wave a dismissive hand. "What do I care about them? I don't owe them anything, not even their lives."

"If I had known you'd turn out to be an even bigger bitch in death than in life," Spike grumbles unhappily, "I never woulda helped that meddling witch."

I can't help the bubble of laughter that explodes from my painted mouth. "So I have you to thank, William?" I snort. "I wondered how Willow got her hands on vampire blood, but now it's all making sense."

Spike says nothing to affirm or deny my suspicions; he merely ducks his head and kicks lamely at a clump of loose grass.

"Why did you do it, Spike?" I demand, taking a step closer to the undead man. "So you could be the Hero? So you could finally Save Me? So I could be your Forever?" I laugh wickedly at the idea. "Did you actually think," I continue, "that I'd choose to be with a neutered vampire like you when I could have my pick of anyone?"

I push him hard in the chest, feeling the solidness of his muscles flexing beneath my palms. I know I'm stronger than him and from the look on his face, he's just starting to realize the same. "I'm not some doe-eyed newbie vamp, Spike, who gets wet listening to the tales of William the Bloody." He stumbles backwards slightly before falling back onto the earth. I loom over his body and frown. "Did you seriously think I'd come back and we'd play House?"

Before he can react, I'm straddling him in the dewy grass. I can feel his strong thighs between my own and a slight stirring underneath his tight black jeans. I don't know what I'm doing; my body and mind seem to be disconnected at this point. I press one palm flat against his chest to steady myself and revel in the fear I'm awarded when I pull the wooden stake out of the waistband of my jeans and hold it high in the air.

"You're still beneath me," I mutter coldly before thrusting the weapon deep into his unbeating heart.

I'm on my hands and knees in the cemetery, dust where there used to be a man. The wet grass starts to soak through my dark pants as I remain in this position momentarily, allowing myself to marvel in what I've just done. The tears are a surprise, I'll admit. They feel strange on my face.

I pull myself off the ground and wipe the mixture of dirt and dust on the back of my jeans. I'm so done with this town. Hellmouth or not, there are too many memories here – too many Buffy memories. I scowl and kick at a loose rock, sending it careening across the length of the cemetery. I watch it ricochet hard off a fire hydrant and smash into a car window, setting off the vehicle's alarm. I allow myself a small smile of satisfaction at the simple act of destruction.

Time to start over again.

Something about hitchhiking feels a little off to me. Even as I stroll down this abandoned road, I can hear those nagging maternal warnings in the back of my brain: "Don't accept rides from strangers, Buffy. It's too dangerous." I have to snicker now though, since I'm the one who's dangerous.

I see headlights in the distance, so I stick my thumb out like I've seen a hundred times in the movies. I've never hitchhiked before, but how hard can it be? The large, dark vehicle passes me and before I can start to feel discouraged, the overcompensating black Hummer slows down on the old county highway, rolling to a noisy stop in the shoulder of the road. I jog lightly up to the passenger side window and am surprised when the automatic window retracts to reveal the grinning face of some blonde girl behind the wheel – it seems like an untraditional vehicle for someone so feminine. I cock my head to the side and give her a warm, winning smile.

"Where ya headed to?" I ask with that famous half-smile that I know disarms both men and women.

The girl looks down at the tattered road map on the passenger seat. "Well, I'm trying to make it to LA," she states with a frustrated sigh. "But I'm pretty sure I'm hella lost now."

I lean into the open window slightly. "I could help ya get there in exchange for a ride?" I offer helpfully. The fake cheerfulness in my own voice turns my stomach slightly.

The blonde woman leans forward and opens the passenger door for me and I quickly hop in, enjoying the mixed scent of leather and her delicate perfume. It reminds me of something, but I can't quite place it. She sticks out a deliciously warm hand in my direction and it takes me a second to realize she wants to shake my hand – not offer me up a tasty, pulsing snack. "I'm Tanya," she states.

I grip her hand in my own and if she's startled by the chilliness of my touch, it doesn't show on her plastic face. "Buffy," I respond with an equally sanguine smile.

The gears grind as she tries to put the massive vehicle back on the main road. She blows a few errant blonde strands from her forehead and her eyes are narrowed in concentration as she tries to find the right gear. "Fuckin' standard," she mumbles under her breath as the Hummer lurches forward.

"New car?" I ask, interested to know why she would be driving a car she doesn't actually know how to drive. I clutch at the 'Oh Shit' bar above the passenger side window and silently worry if maybe this girl is actually more dangerous than me.

"Mmhmm," she mutters, finally pulling the vehicle back onto the road. "Guess ya don't recognize me, huh?" she smiles with a slight blush on her tanned cheeks. When I give her a blank look and shake my head, she explains. "I won it when I was on that one reality show. You know, the one where they strand you in a deserted area and you have to eat weird things?"

I scratch my head. "Survivor?"

She gives me a strange laugh. "No, the Biggest Loser."

The drive is a long one. Not because Sunnydale is so far away from Los Angeles, but because Tanya can't shut her gaping hole. She keeps talking about protein shakes and Jillian Michaels' abdominal muscles. I would have eaten her an hour ago, but then I remembered that Buffy Summers is a terribly tragic driver. This is the worst kind of torture. I'd rather drink Holy Water.

When the Hummer finally rolls into the front parking lot of the Sunset Marquis in West Hollywood and Tanya turns off the vehicle, I'm ready to rip her throat out and enjoy the sounds of her last gasps gurgling with blood.

"Thanks a lot for being my navigator, Buffy," my new least favorite person smiles. She unbuckles her seatbelt and I follow suit. "I wouldn't have made it with your help. If you need anything while I'm in town, just let me know."

"Now that you mention it," I muse, looking thoughtful. "I am a little hungry."

She doesn't even have time to scream. Pity.

Los Angeles. The City of Angels. I stare out at the darkened city, the lights of impressive buildings glittering like false gold. I know that _he's _out there somewhere, watching over this disillusioned city and it sets my nerves on edge. It might be the second largest city in the country, but exes always have a way of popping up. I would have avoided this Mecca of Evil at all costs just knowing I could come across him, but then that Hummer rolled into my life. So the new plan is have a little fun with Tanya's credit cards before heading on to the next Hellmouth. I wonder if there are any Malls open after sunset.

I turn away from the large picture window and face the doorway when I hear the hesitant knock. "Room service," a muffled male voice calls behind the thick door. I peer through the peephole – old habit, I suppose – before letting the short, balding man in with his cart of goodies.

He pushes past the open door and me, wheeling the full tray towards the back of the room, close to the large windows. "What a great view in the room, eh?" he observes, idly chatting as he prepares the food I ordered half an hour ago. The uniformed man wraps a white towel around the neck of the champagne bottle and gives me a small smile. "Stand back, miss," he lightly warns before dislodging the cork from the alcohol bottle. He stately pores me a glass and looks around the room for the first time.

"First time in LA?" he asks.

I give him a sweet smile. "I guess you could say I was here in a previous life."

He looks momentarily perplexed, but shrugs slightly beneath his starched uniform and begins to reveal the plates of food I requested. Angel and Spike never really ate human food, but I'm still curious to know what it tastes like now. Besides, it's not like I'm paying for it. Tanya is.

When he pulls the cover off of the egg-white omelet, and the scent slightly turns my stomach. I grab a strawberry garnish from the plate and pop it in my mouth expecting the sweet burst of fruit juice, but I gag and quickly spit the small piece of fruit into a cloth napkin. Dust. It all tastes like dust.

"Is everything alright, Miss?" the hotel employee asks with a small frown. "Those strawberries aren't in season yet, so maybe that's the problem."

I give the small man a forced smile and wave my hand. "It's fine, it's fine," I quickly lie.

My stomach growls loudly and the man smiles back at me. "Guess it's a good thing I got here when I did," he lightly jokes, referring to his cartful of food.

I lick my lips unconsciously and stare at the man. I can just make out the erratic pulsing of his jugular vein above the stiff color of his buttoned up jacket. I surrender myself to the hunger and my primal instincts and give in to my needs.

"Yes," I purr as my hazel-green eyes turn to yellow and my face morphs into a frightening scene. "It _is _a good thing."

Suggested Listening: "If U Seek Amy," – by Britney Spears

The leather fits like a second skin, deliciously hugging my slender curves. As I walk up to the front entrance of just another LA dance club, I congratulate myself for correctly guessing that my last meal was about my size. Girl had terrible hair, but I just had to have her pants.

It's been a few weeks of living large in Los Angeles. I've been able to keep a low enough profile not to rouse any suspicions that there's a new Big Bad in town, just in case this city's Hero decided to look me up. I'm honestly surprised I haven't run into him; but then again, maybe Willow hasn't had the courage to tell him about what she did to me.

The bouncer lets me in without much fan-fare and I make my way over to the bar. Human food might taste like rotting, but at least the alcohol still has that familiar burn. I've almost made up my mind to leave this city; I've gotten tired of being so careful. And killing attractive coeds night after night has lost its appeal. It never fails to amuse me, however, how eagerly they follow me into some dark, dank, abandoned alley. But if I'm going to be doing this Forever, I really do need more of a challenge.

The first Jack and diet goes down quickly, but I take my time with the second, swirling the red swizzle stick around the well of my glass, taking in tonight's crowd. The dance floor is flooded with young, nubile bodies. The music is loud and frenetic, causing everyone's blood to run a little hotter and a little faster through his or her veins. I close my eyes and sway my hips slightly to the song the DJ is spinning and bathe in the escalating emotions around me.

"Let me buy you a drink," a deep voice rumbles beside me.

I turn quickly to the right to face the broad-shouldered man with a tight Ed Hardy t-shirt stretched across his chest. The nameless manstick with a carefully manicured faux-hawk looks surprised at how quickly I moved and how I seem to be invading his personal space. He takes a tentative step backwards, so I pour on the charm.

"How about a dance instead?" I suggest with a dazzling smile. I take his sweaty hand in my own and begin to lead him in the direction of the dance floor, before he can form his own opinion. "I'll take a rain check on that drink though," I call, looking back over my shoulder at his cocky grin.

When I'm sufficiently satisfied with our location on the dance floor, I spin quickly to once again face my new acquaintance. His deep blue eyes are a little too close together and the cleft in his chin is a little too defined. Even in this dim light I can tell his skin is more orange than bronze. He's got one of those shadow beards that's supposed to look effortless, but this guy probably spends more time getting ready than I do.

He leans in close to my right ear and a large hand familiarly brushes my hipbone. "I'm Mason," he lowly growls, just loud enough for me to hear.

"Uh huh," I nod, not in the mood for mundane conversation.

I spin around and swivel my hips, backing up so my tight ass is pressed intimately against this beefy stranger. His hands once again rest on my hips and I hear him slightly groan when I subtly rub against him. I raise my arms above my body, my hands twisting and waving in the air with the beat. He slides his palms down the muscular thighs hidden beneath my leather pants and he tightly grips the slightly flexing flesh as I sway and wiggle to the music. When I feel his blood rushing southwards, away from his brain, I know Mason is mine.

I lean my slight form into his solid chest and reach my hands up, lazily draping them behind his thick neck. His breath feels hot and clumsy against my skin and I lightly scratch my polished fingernails down his jugular. I stifle my own throaty moan when I feel the quickening pulse erratically dancing under my touch. If I had a beating heart, it might pulse a little faster for this man. Not because I'm attracted to him, but because his blood just smells so _fresh_.

I arch my back a little more, and twist my neck to make sure he won't miss my next command. "Come with me," I whisper into his ear.

I spin around to face him and give him a devastating half-smile, batting my long eyelashes slightly. His face lights up with that cocky, shit-eating grin again and his hand clamps tightly around mine as I lead him toward the back of the club and out the rear exit.

The heavy service-entrance door closes with the shrieking of metal rubbing against metal. The alley is quiet except for the echoing pulse of deep bass reverberating from inside the club. The air smells stale, like a mixture of old cigarette smoke and piss. There's nothing sexy about the back alleys of nightclubs in LA, but it's the quick fix that I need right now.

I step into the shadows and allow my face to morph into its demonic visage. My yellowed irises give me a kind of night-vision so I can see Mason's bulky form no matter how limited the lighting. When I'm in Game Mode, I become the perfect predator. I'm a hunter; I act on instinct alone.

"W-what are you doing?" he asks in a shaky voice, clearly unnerved by my silence.

I step out of the shadows finally and let Mason see what I am. His face blanches and his startled blue eyes widen, but he doesn't run away or scream. My teeth grow a little longer and a little sharper, and I smile around my enlarged canines.

"Don't worry, Mason. I'm just cashing in on that rain check," I purr, licking my lips. "I never turn down a free drink."

_Suggested Listening - "Lovegame" by Lady Gaga_

I saunter back into the club from the rear entrance and wipe the back of my hand across my mouth to make sure I've cleaned up the remnants of my most recent meal. I walk up to the bar and order another Jack and diet, not feeling sufficiently buzzed to go home yet. I've had my fill for the evening, and the blood lust has sufficiently been sated, but that doesn't mean I can't still have a little fun before the sun comes up.

I lazily scan the dancing crowd again, this time looking for something a little more…feminine, when my eyes stop on the gyrating form of a curvy brunette. Her long, dark locks cascade down her toned shoulders and bare back like a chaotic waterfall. The way she moves to the new song lets everyone in the vicinity know that she's just as talented horizontally as she is vertically.

Her tight ass is enticingly encased in red leather pants that lead down to dark, chunky boots. Her top is some flimsy material that covers her front, but leaves her back naked besides a barely-there strap. The overall look is slightly butch, but her bouncy hair and revealing top give it that feminine touch. Girl's got style to go with that killer body, I'll give her that.

When she turns around and I finally see her face, my beverage slips from my hand and I watch, in slow motion, as the heavy glass plummets downward and shatters on the sticky floor in front of me. Then the world comes rushing back, everything a little too loud, too bright, and too in focus like when some bratty kid's been fiddling with the television set. A cocktail waitress bends down in front of me and hastily cleans up the broken glass and I hear her asking if I want another drink. But I'm too distracted to focus on anything beyond the dangerous brunette still dancing only a few yards from me.

A bevy of questions simultaneously assail my brain: I thought she was still in prison? When did she get out? Why didn't anyone tell me she wasn't in prison anymore? Why didn't _she _tell me? How can she look so carefree at a time like this? Doesn't she know I'm dead?

She saunters off the dance floor, hand in hand with a scantily clad blonde girl. The two sit down together at a small, circular bar top with the new stranger practically sitting in Faith's lap. The girl is talking animatedly about something, gesturing with her hands and using every opportunity to casually touch her dancing partner. Faith only nods and moves her mouth slightly, clearly satisfied with allowing the shorter woman to carry the conversation. But her eyes give her away. There's that familiar mischievous sparkle. That twinkle that lets me know she's attracted to this vapid girl.

Faith's dancing partner stands up abruptly and motions her hands in the direction of the women's bathroom. The insipid, thin blonde trails her fingers along Faith's strong shoulders as she begins to walk away and gives her a parting smile that promises she'll be right back. Faith leers appreciatively as the girl ambles toward the restroom, her backside and hips swishing from side to side in an exaggerated manner – clearly a private show just for the Boston-born slayer.

I breathe in a deep, unneeded breath and cross my arms across my chest, closing myself off. I know I shouldn't care. There's no reason for me to care. I shake my head from side to side. Why do I feel like this though? Why do I want to rip that girl's long legs off her skinny, little body and beat her with her own kneecaps?

Keeping an eye on the dark-haired slayer as she continues to sit unaffected at her small bar table, I move through the crowd in the direction of the bathroom. Luckily there's no line outside the women's restroom, and I push through the thick blue door to find Faith's eager suitor standing in front of the vanity mirror, reapplying her thick lipstick. She doesn't look in my direction, either not hearing the door open over the sound of the reverberating bass, or simply being too caught up in her own reflection.

I quietly walk up behind the girl, careful not to let my high-heels clack loudly against the marble flooring. The blonde woman continues to stare at herself, pursing her lips after satisfactorily repainting her mouth. For all she knows, she's the only one in the room; I have no reflection. It still shocks me to look into a mirror and see nothing. Luckily, I know I always look good.

I grab the girl by her long bleach-blonde locks and wretch her head back, so she's looking at me. Her deep green eyes are contacts and it makes me want to scream. Everything and everyone in this fucking town is so fake. She squeals a loud protest, but I'm in no mood for games. A growl explodes from deep in my throat and I plunge my hollow canines deep into her neck, instinctively knowing where her blood flows hot and loose. I retract my teeth from her flesh, letting her blood flow obscenely down my chin. Her eyes twitch back and forth erratically, like a deer that's been hit by a speeding truck. Her hands go to her neck and she gasps a gargled, blood-soaked breath.

"Stay away from Faith," I rasp at her, the words tumbling out on their own. The name feels strange on my tongue as though I've never said it before or I'm out of practice.

I take her head solidly in the palm of my hands and with one wrenching twist, I break her neck. There are no more pleading gasps. There are no more surprised and frightened glances. I drop her body to the cold, marble floor. Her glassy green eyes stare blankly at the ceiling. Her chest is still; no oxygen will ever fill her lungs again.

Not needing anyone to discover the body before I get the chance to clean up, I open an empty bathroom stall and drag her lifeless corpse into the vacated cubicle. I lock the door and shimmy out under the stall door, grimacing at the gritty feel of the dirty floor against my skin. Someone seriously needs to mop in here.

I feel the anger and indignation drain out of my form as I calmly wash my hands at the vanity sink. The blood turns pink as it mixes with water and swirls around the white porcelain sink, flowing down the drain. I dry my hands and wipe away the girl's blood from my face with a rough paper towel.

When I exit the bathroom, I easily locate Faith still sitting at the bar top by herself. She's already gone through two beers and as she continues to sit, I can see her becoming more and more agitated waiting for her dancing partner to return from the bathroom. She somehow pulls a cell phone out of the front of her tight leather pants and checks the time. It's still early for a Slayer.

She takes one last pull out of the brown glass beer bottle and sets it on the tabletop before standing up. I briefly hide myself behind a large concrete pillar as her dark eyes scan the crowd one last time, no doubt looking for the missing blonde.

I watch her swagger out the front entrance, but I don't follow her. Not just yet. I know she's still looking to let off a little steam before she returns to whatever shoddy apartment complex she calls home. All I need to do is locate the nearest cemetery and there she'll be.

Oh yes, I smile to myself; this _is _going to be fun.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

_Willow's eyes went wide and she turned back to look at the softly crying woman still standing uninvited on the other side of the threshold. "Buffy?" the red-haired witch asked softly. She tentatively reached out, crossing the barrier, and held the silent girl by her upper arms. "Buffy?" she called again, searching the hazel-green eyes that continued to drip with tears. "Is that _you_ in there?"_

Present Day

"Well _I'm_ not going to invite her in," Cordelia stated sourly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You don't even live here, girl. It doesn't work that way," Gunn muttered to the former beauty queen.

"W-Willow," the vampire chattered, reaching out to her long time friend, only to find a blurry barrier between herself and the startled demon-fighters. She looked at her fingertips as if the slim digits were a strange, new addition to her body.

"Don't let her in!" Wesley protested from his position behind the reception desk. The Englishman slightly cowered behind the formidable wooden furniture. "It's another one of her tricks!"

"You guys, I can _feel her_. It's got to be Buffy," Faith insisted as she pushed her way closer to the door. "Someone needs to invite her in."

"It-It could just be a glamour," Willow pointed out reluctantly, taking another step backwards away from the door. "She could have used magic to recreate your Slayer bond." Buffy frowned at the Wicca, clearly injured that her best friend seemed afraid of her.

The redhead's mind spun wildly out of control, a bevy of questions spiraling through her brain: Was this a trick or was it _really_ Buffy? If it really was the blonde slayer, then how had her soul been returned? And if her soul had been returned, did she remember what she had done as a vampire? But more importantly for the Wicca, did Buffy remember _how_ she became a vampire?

Angel stood next to the hesitant witch and gravely folded his arms across his broad chest. "Come in," he growled to the group's surprise. "She's not going to do any damage," he noted out loud. "We have numbers on our side."

"D-damage?" Buffy stuttered, crossing the threshold and rubbing her palms against her upper arms as if trying to generate unnecessary heat. "W-why would I cause _damage_?" the blonde asked.

She looked around the hotel lobby, surprised to find so many familiar faces, including the Boston girl. Wasn't she supposed to be in prison? And why was Willow in Los Angeles? And why was _she _in Los Angeles? The last thing she remembered was…

"Cause that's what soulless demons do," Gunn snarled in reply, not abandoning his aggressive stance.

Buffy's step faltered at Gunn's words and her knees buckled, causing her to fall into Angel's arms. While normally the ageless man's embrace felt cold and hard, the blonde was surprised at how natural it felt now. She looked up into the brooding man's dark, searching eyes.

"Soulless?" she repeated quietly before the tears began to fall again.

Angel resisted the urge to hold the blonde tight against his chest and comfort the lost-looking girl. Instead, the stoical man merely helped her back on her unsteady feet. "You _do _know what you are now, don't you?" he murmured quietly.

Buffy dropped her chin to her chest and shut her eyes tightly, yet the tears continued to squeeze out of her closed lids, falling uselessly to the ground. "I-I can feel it," she mumbled through her choked sobs. "I can feel the demon inside me." She looked up again at her ex-boyfriend. "I'm a vampire."

"H-how could this happen?" the redhead sputtered, still backing away from the blonde vampire uneasily. "You-you just saw her and she wasn't all soul-ful," she pointed out to Angel.

The brooding man could only shake his head in disbelief. "I don't know what's going on, Willow," he admitted.

"If you're really Buffy, you'll let me tie you up," Wesley called out, still hiding behind the Hyperion's front desk.

The slayer vampire rolled her eyes at the former Watcher's desperate words, despite the confusion she felt. "If I had a nickel for every time I heard _that _one," she deadpanned.

Faith tore her eyes away from the lithe form of the new vampire and flashed a desperate look at the redheaded witch. "Red, can't you just like_ look _at her and see if it's really her?" she questioned with emotion.

The Wicca flushed slightly. "T-Tara was always better at reading people's energies than me. I'm just good at chemistry and physics. There is a spell," she noted out loud. "But it'll have to wait until the morning when I can get the supplies I need."

"And in the meantime we just let psycho vampire girl drain us all?" Cordelia demanded, tapping an impatient high-heeled foot on the hardwood floor. She stared defiantly at her employer. "Because I _seriously _do not get paid enough for this."

"I'll keep an eye on her," Faith blurted out.

All eyes flipped to the Boston girl's face, including two surprised hazel-green eyes.

FlashbackBuffy's POVSuggested Listening: Shakira – "She Wolf"

I push through the front entrance of tonight's choice of nightclub. Every night it's the same old song and dance. She leaves her apartment and patrols the local cemeteries like a good little slayer. And then we end up here.

She's even more beautiful when she fights – I'd even say 'breathtaking' if I still breathed. Her body radiates Power and Confidence, even more so than when I knew her in Sunnydale. She's more centered and controlled now when she slays; not as wild and half-cocked. But she was born for Death and Destruction. And it makes me more than just a little turned on watching the way she moves.

After the usual kill-or-be killed routine, she shimmies over to the nearest bar or club. Most nights she just drinks heavily and dances off those excess energies until the sun comes up. But other evenings I'm forced to watch in painful anonymity as she flirts her way into some guy or girl's pants. In fact, tonight seems to be one of those peculiar nights. No sooner had she ordered her first Jack and diet, she was scanning the crowd, looking for her prey. She dusted a handful of vampires earlier, so her hormones must be making her crawl the walls, itching for a different kind of action.

I'm able to sufficiently hide in the shadows of the dimly lit bar, but still have a front-row view to tonight's show from my seat at an out-of-the-way table. I watch her swagger over to a short blonde playing darts with her sorority Sisters. Those dark chocolate eyes seemed to size up the entire bar in one fell swoop before she spotted her target. And they say _vampires _are predators. Well, watch out for Faith Lehane. I don't know how she does it, but male or female, they all fall under her thrall.

I notice she's more aggressive tonight. She's talking up a storm and flashing those award-winning dimples with abandon. Most nights when her hormones scream louder than her other needs, she lets the sheep come to her. It's that mystery and cool aloofness that pulls them in like brainwashed moths to the dangerous flame. I feel the pull even from my disconnected surveillance.

In no time she's separated the girl from her friends, and it makes me grin for some demented reason. Rule #1: separate the weak ones from the herd.

"Can I get you something from the bar?" a girlish voice asks me.

I turn away from the sorority crowd and look into the face of a redheaded cocktail waitress. Her button nose and high-sweeping cheekbones are lightly peppered with freckles. I size up her modest frame for a moment as she stands expectantly, waiting for my drink order. She's got on a tight miniskirt and even tighter top that struggles to keep her breasts under wraps. You can tell she's customized the t-shirt to help out with tips.

"Tonight's drink specials are $5 well drinks and $4 car bombs," she chirps as she sets a cocktail napkin in front of me.

I shake my head at the young woman. "No, I'm fine," I grit at her through clenched teeth.

The perky smile disappears from her thin lips. "Nothing?" she asks, clearly annoyed that I'm monopolizing one of her tables.

I narrow my hazel-green eyes at her. "I said I'm fine," I snarl in reply.

The girl hustles away, giving me one last glare over her shoulder as she maneuvers to take another tables' order. I can't help the smile that flutters to my lips. It feels like a personal victory. Buffy Summers would have never been that rude to a waitress.

When I look back towards the corner where the sorority girls and Faith had been standing, I notice that Blondie and the Boston girl have conveniently disappeared. She wouldn't have been able to walk out the front doors that quickly without me noticing, which means only one thing – the women's bathroom. I quickly hop up from my stool at the bartop and make my way towards the back laboratories.

I take stock of the restroom as I push through the heavy doors, taking in my surroundings and looking for the elusive slayer. Three vessel sinks sit atop a dark granite countertop. The white tile is remarkably clean for a Los Angeles club and it emphasizes the color of my deep red stilleto'd heels.

As I click further into the bathroom, I see a handful of young women repainting themselves with makeup in front of a long vanity mirror. The hollow sound of laughing and giggling girls makes my right eye twitch. No one should be that bubbly.

I turn the corner and find three bathroom stalls. Two vacant, one occupied. I'm about to turn on my heels and leave, thinking that I've made a mistake, when I hear a low moan coming from behind the closed bathroom stall door.The very low, very feminine groan echoes against the tiled walls and floor and causes the women at the mirror to momentarily cease their chattering. Another quiet gasp comes from the direction of the bathroom stalls and it makes one of the girls giggle nervously.

And then I hear it – the earthy words that make my stomach drop: "Fuck, that feels good."

There's only one girl in all the world with a voice like that.

A girl with dark hair and pale skin snorts from her position near the bathroom mirror. "Sounds like _someone _is having a good time tonight," she mutters playfully to her friends. The four women grab their handbags and give each other knowing smiles before making a hasty retreat out the bathroom door and back into the club.

I'm left alone in the bathroom with whomever occupies the one bathroom stall. Crouching slightly, I see two pairs of shoes beneath the stall door – heavy, black boots and purple ballet flats. Knowing my own shoes will give me away, I quickly slip out of the heels and pad my way over to the trio of stalls.

"Yeah, right there," the gravely rasp groans again.

I squint my eyes hard and feel the now familiar pressure in my forehead and the bridge of my nose. As my face transforms and my senses become heightened, my nostrils are assaulted with the scent of feminine arousal. But not just of any girl getting turned on. It's _Her. _It's Faith.

I lean my head forward, slightly nearer to the closed bathroom door. Straining my ears, I can hear the quiet sounds of wet slapping and labored breathing. My eyes go wide and I back up slightly. Some girl is finger-fucking Faith.

My brain commands me to rip the stall door from its hinges and snap off the little slut's fingers for touching Faith. But I've ignored my own body's demands for too long to do anything except get myself off. I quietly shuffle over to the parallel bathroom stall and quietly close and latch the door behind me, careful not to let it creak out loud.

"Yeah, grab my tits," she encourages her stall-mate. "Pinch my nipples," she commands.

If I had a pulse, it would have quickened. If I had a beating heart, it would be throbbing just as much as my clit. Memories of Faith's ample breasts flash through my mind and I imagine rolling her tightened nipples between my cool fingertips.

My right hand slides down the front of my tight leather pants and my fingers pass beyond the thin barrier of my slight lace panties. The wetness has already begun to accumulate on my hairless slit and my fingers slide easily through my heavy arousal. I quietly unfasten the top bottom of my pants and slide the zipper down to grant myself better access.

Instinctively my fingers glide through the sticky, wet cum and I spread it along my swollen lips. My fingertips brush against my clit and it sends a shudder of pleasure through my undead body. Faith groans again and I still my fingers momentarily. The sexy grunts and gasps coming from the stall are going to make me cum too soon. I need to wait. I need to cum with her.

"Fuck me," she commands in her husky voice. "Fuck me harder."

I bite my bottom lip to keep from groaning and being discovered and slide a single digit hard into my cunt. My pussy muscles feel tight and wet around my finger. I thrust hard into my core, easily bottoming out. Each penetration becomes bruisingly harder. I want to fuck myself hard for her. I want to make it ache a little so I can feel her in the days to come.

"Gonna cum…" she moans. "So close."

I hear the other girl's voice for the first time and it almost ruins my orgasm. "You're so fucking hot," the nameless, faceless blonde breathes in reverence of the dark goddess wrapped tight around her fingers. "Cum on my hand."

The bathroom stall next to me shakes a little. I imagine Faith bracing her strong arms against the comparably flimsy material as she nears her climax. I imagine _my_ fingers inside the dangerous beauty, causing her eyes to roll backwards and her strong thighs to tremble.

"Fuck," Faith cries out suddenly. "I'm cumming, Buffy!"

My body tenses and I still the movement inside my pussy when I hear her orgasm. What the _hell? _Did she just say _my name?_

"Buffy?" the anonymous fuck shouts angrily. Apparently she's thinking the same thing. "Who the hell is _Buffy_?"

I hear an uncomfortable cough and then sound of a zipper being refastened. "Don't worry about it," Faith says in her rough, yet velvety voice. "That was great. Thanks, babe, but I gotta go."

She offers no apology. She says nothing to justify or explain what just happened. I hear the bathroom stall click and swing open over the incessant screaming and swearing of her most recent partner. Faith's heavy boots sound hollow as she walks away, and when she pushes through the heavy bathroom door, the mechanical sound of electronica filters into the bathroom, until it swings close again.

I hold an unnecessary breath as the other girl slams her stall door. She storms angrily over to the vessels and turns on the faucet. "Of all the fucking nerve," she growls to herself as she scrubs her hands under the sink. "Screaming some other chick's name."

I wipe my sticky fingers on a scrap of toilet paper and throw it into the open bowl before flushing it down. I hear another string of expletives explode from the other girl when she hears the rushing water. I take the time to zip up my pants and refasten the top button.

When I confidently push open the door to my bathroom stall, I finally have the opportunity to see this girl up close. I walk toward the trio of vessel sinks and eyeball the blonde woman. Her top is so tight, the sorority letters are almost illegible the way they're stretched and morphed over her fake tits. I realize I'm still fucking horny, and completely unsatisfied. I pause momentarily and lick my lips. Perhaps I still will snap off her fingers.

"Jesus Christ," she curses angrily. The water continues to run down the drain as she stands aggressively before me, her hands on her hips. "Have you been in here the entire time?" she demands. "What are you, some kind of _pervert?_"

I give her a lopsided grin and cock my head to the side. "No, cutie," I sing-song. "I'm _Buffy_."

Present Day

_Help I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer_

_Hard to be soft, tough to be tender_

_Come take my pulse, the pace is on a runaway train_

Metric – "Help, I'm Alive"

Faith POV

Although everyone wanted to hear Buffy's story first, the Big Guy reluctantly conceded that research and questioning could wait until the morning. Angel only really agreed to her staying with me until Willow placed a protective spell on the Hyperion, making it impossible for demons to injure humans within the former hotel's walls.

But it has to be her. I can feel our connection vibrating down my spine. I want it to be her. It has to be her.

I'm snapped out of my inner musings when I see Buffy coming outta the hotel bathroom adjoined to my bedroom wearing an oversized t-shirt and cotton pajama pants. Without the leather outfit she showed up in, it makes my heart flutter a little. Sure leather and lace is sexy as fuck, but this is the B I fell in love with all those years ago. Cotton and flannel. Soft and comforting.

She's got her head cocked to the side, toweling off her damp blonde hair with an oversized towel. "I don't think I'll ever get warm," she complains to me as she walks into the main room.

"You're kinda room temperature, B," I remind her with a little grin.

Buffy drops the towel on the carpeted floor and, even from my reclined position on the double bed, I can see those large, salty tears threatening to fall from her eyes. I hop up from off the bed and rush over to her side, silently cursing my dumb mouth. Seeing her quiet anguish, I tentatively reach out and touched my fingertips at Buffy's elbow.

"I-I'm sorry, B," I murmured lowly, not really sure what to say to erase the words that carelessly rushed out of my mouth. "I know this has gotta be wicked hard for you."

"Hard? _Hard!" _the undead woman chokes out bitterly, shaking her head. "What do you know about _hard?_" she cries. Her hazel-green eyes flip open and she growls at me, causing me to jump backwards just a little. _"I'm dead, Faith_!_"_ the Californian shrieks. "But more specifically, I'm a _vampire. _I'm what you and I were created to _destroy."_

The small blonde shakes with anger. "Mirrors! I'll never be able to look at myself again!" she despairs manically. "And let's not forget that I'll never be able to go to the _beach _ever again. I'll have to resort to fake spray-on tans, and those just _never_ look natural. I'll be like a giant, blonde carrot."

Seeing her distress and acting on instinct, I throw my arms around Buffy and hug her slight frame tight against my own body. "It's gonna be okay, B. We'll figure something out," I murmur into her slightly damp hair. I don't know if the words that tumble so easily from my mouth are true. But I hope they are.

Buffy abandons herself to my comforting embrace and nuzzles her nose into the crook of my neck. Her skin feels cold, but her sudden proximity has got me all kinds of hot. "Uhn, you're so _warm,_" she breathes. She buries her face into my neck and I swear I hear her purr contently.

I jump backwards as if B's touch has electrocuted me. The last time I let her get that close, I ended up in the hospital. Every time I let her get that close, now that I think about it, I end up in the hospital. So why do I keep coming back for more?

B looks immediately embarrassed. "God...I-I'm sorry, Faith," she murmurs under her breath. "I don't know why I did that." She casts her eyes to the ground, looking guilty. "I guess I just miss the warmth," she admits to me. "Am I supposed to get used to how _cold _this feels?"

"It's okay, B," I rush out. "Don't worry about it." I feel rattled to the bones by the aggressive and intimate touch, but not wanting Buffy to feel uncomfortable, I change the subject quickly. "What do you remember? About how you became a...a vampire? I mean, do you remember anything?" I ask.

I ask, even though I basically know the answer. B once confided in me that when Angel's soul had returned just before she had been forced to kill him to save the world, he initially hadn't realized that Angelus had been back. He didn't realize how much time had passed. He didn't remember things like stalking Buffy as she slept or killing Jenny Calendar until later. I need to know, however, more than anything else, if B remembers our night together at my apartment.

Buffy sits down on the edge of the bed and scrunches her face up. "I remember being in Sunnydale," she starts slowly. "I was fighting a group of demons near one of the cemeteries. I was losing pretty badly," she admits with a wistful sigh. "And then…nothing."

"Nothing?" I ask, partly relieved and partly curious. "Nothing afterwards?" I prod as I take a seat on the bed as well.

"Afterwards?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. I feel my heartbeat quicken as I scoot a little closer, and I'm sure it doesn't escape her notice. I swear I see her smile a little.

"You know – when you died?" I clarify nervously. I tug a little on my loose hair and pull it behind my right ear. "Was there a big white light? Did you see your whole life flash before your eyes?"

Buffy hesitates. "Y-yes. All that stuff. But if it's okay with you, I-I don't want to think about it. I think I've died too many times for one person."

"I'm sorry, B," I frown guiltily. "I keep forgetting that dying is old hat to you. You're like a pro at it by now."

The blonde goddess sighs sadly and nods. "The next thing I remember was waking up tonight. Here…in LA." Her eyes narrow in concentration. "And somehow, I knew immediately…about…about _what I am now_." Buffy looks down at her hands and bites her bottom lip. I can tell she's futilely trying to hold back the tears. She's cried enough for one day.

I lean back against the bed frame and cross my long legs. "So what's it feel like to be a vampire?" I ask, trying to lighten this situation or something. I pull my heavy boots off my feet and throw them into a corner of my small bedroom. The chunky shoes knock against the plaster wall loudly and leave a black mark in their wake. I don't exactly know how to make B feel better about this, but I'm gonna try my damn-dest.

"Well…I haven't been doing it _that _long," Buffy points out. "So I'm not exactly an expert." She scratches at her head. "I guess the biggest thing," she starts, shaking her head slightly and narrowing her eyes in thought, "is the hunger. I just…I don't know…I'm so _aware_ of all the blood around me."

She nods in my direction. "Like, I can practically hearyour heart beating. I can almost _see _the blood flowing through your arteries and veins." Buffy's stomach suddenly growls loudly and she grabs at her abdomen with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she apologizes with a sheepish smile. "I guess I never realized even just talkingabout blood would make me so hungry."

"I could see if Angel has any blood in the kitchen?" I offer quickly, moving to get up off of the bed. "You'd be surprised how good I've gotten at getting it the right temperature."

Buffy shakes her head and stops my exit. "No. I don't want to be a burden to Angel anymore than I already am." She pushes out a long, sad sigh between her slightly parted lips. "This has got to be pretty weird for him, don't you think?" she muses aloud. "His ex-girlfriend is now suddenly just like him? A vampire with a soul?"

I stare at her for a moment before dropping my head. I'd never thought about _that _before. "Yeah," I mumble, turning my gaze away from the girl who's managed to break my heart more times than I'd like to remember. "Guess you guys can have that Happy Ending you've always wanted."

When I feel her cool hand grasping my own sweaty palm, I turn my attention back to that painfully angelic face. She's so beautiful, I have to squint.

"I don't want to be with Angel anymore, Faith," she insists quietly. The words make my stomach do summersaults, but I don't want to let myself hope for anything more than this. "That ship sailed a long time ago. I hope you don't think it's going to be like that." She hesitates meaningfully before continuing. "I hope you don't think I'm going to choose Angel over _you_ again."

We stare intensely at each other, neither one of us moving or saying a word when B's stomach is growling again, this time more loudly. "Sorry," she grimaces. "Guess that hunger's not gonna go away."

I want her to know that I trust her. I want her to know how I feel. "You could…you know…always have some of mine…." I trail off.

At my words, B's hazel-green eyes widen. "No!" she exclaims, jumping up from the bed and away from me. I instantly miss her proximity. "I-I could never…you want me to _feed _off of you?"

"I'm sorry, B," I apologize, embarrassed to have made the suggestion. "You're right. It's a bad idea. Forget I said anything. You shouldn't get in the habit of drinking human blood, anyway."

Buffy closes her eyes tightly. "Can we just go to sleep now?" she grimaces. "This all feels like a bad dream."

"Of course, B. Fuck, I'm sorry." I rake my fingers through my chaotic tresses. "Sorry is like my middle name or something. I just keep fuckin' up tonight, huh?"

She gives me that little lopsided smile she's perfected over the years and fuck if I don't wanna jump her bones or just hug her to death or something. Fuck, I'm in trouble. She's _already _dead.

"I'm glad you're here, Fai," she whispers, almost shyly. "I don't honestly know how you're out of prison," she points out with a quiet chuckle, "but I'm really glad you're here."

I can feel my face slightly flush from her admission, and it's makin' me all kinds of uncomfortable. How come she always makes me feel softer than a marshmallow?

"We should get to bed," I grunt.

After one more devastatingly adorable smile, she gives a curt nod and busies herself with the task of climbing into my bed. I suddenly realize I still have to change into pajamas and am now faced with the dilemma of where to do it. If I take my bed clothes into the bathroom, she might think being around her makes me uncomfortable (which it does). But if I strip down in front of her, she's gonna think I'm still the slutty slayer (which I kinda am).

"Fuck it," I mutter under my breath as I pull my top up over my abdomen, past my bra encased breasts, and off my head. I've got on one of those convertible bras, so just the top half of my chest is threatening to spill out.

Even though I'm not lookin' in her direction, I can feel those addictive green eyes trained on my body. I wiggle my tight pants down my hips and thighs and quickly step into my boi shorts. I can tell she's trying to do the prude, innocent Buffy thing, but she keeps ogglin' the goodies like I'm a delicious piece of meat. Fuck, I hope she doesn't eat me tonight.

Get your head outta the gutter. Of course I wouldn't mind _that. _

When I finally build up enough courage to look at her face, she's not pretending to avert her eyes anymore. She's staring at me hardcore, and her face looks a little wild.

"Come here," she whispers. I'm still just standing in my bra and shorts, my nightshirt completely forgotten with her whispered command. She sits up in my bed, a pillow propped behind her. "Faith," she quietly states again. "Come here."

My feet start walking toward the bed before my mind can tell them no. She pats the space beside her, inviting me close. I sit down on the squishy mattress, feeling it shift slightly with the pressure of my weight.

Buffy stares at my face, studying me like a road map. I shiver a little when I feel her fingertips brush against my wrist. I don't jump back like last time and her digits continue to dance up my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I can hear my heart echoing in my ears and the sound of my heavy breath blankets my senses. Those traveling fingers continue north, up my slightly tensed bicep and up to my naked shoulder.

Her fingers stop when she reaches the swell of my breasts and the fading marks at the top of the barely covered fleshy globe. Buffy lightly fingers the shallow twin scars. "Faith," she whispers again. "You've been bit."

I'm sure my eyes have flipped wide open and my jaw goes a little slack. I had completely forgotten about that. I mean, I didn't _forget _about it. I just forgot about the scars. And before I can stop myself, I'm suddenly blubbering like a baby.

Tears spill down my olive-tinted skin. Her cools hands are on me, stroking my face, wiping the tears away. She's murmuring hushing noises, trying to help me reign in my emotions once again.

"It looks…" B hesitates, "…recent." I can see her choking and struggling with the next words. "It was me, wasn't it?" she asks quietly.

I've got no reason to lie to her, and all I can do is nod my head.

The undead slayer continues to softly caress my exposed skin, never breaking eye contact. "Faith," she states with amazing calmness. "How long have I been a vampire?"

I feel my thick bottom lip quiver slightly and I wipe at my errant tears with the back of my hands. "About three months," I rasp.

Buffy tilts her head to the side and unconsciously licks her lips as she allows her eyes to drop from my face, down to my heaving chest. "Who did this to me, Fai?" she asks in an even quieter, calmer voice. "How did I become a vampire?"

My breath comes out in awkward shuddered bursts as I feel her cool touch stroke across the expanse of the top of my breasts. The more she touches me, the more honest I become. "W-Willow," I reveal. "You were going to die. So she changed you with vampire blood."

Buffy's features cloud over and her eyes narrow slightly. She once again fingers the bite marks above my breast, causing me to draw in a sharp breath. "And why do you have these?" she asks with interest.

I can't keep secrets from her. Not anymore.

"Because I let you," I reveal, my voice lowering to its usual husk.

Fuck, I'm in trouble.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Buffy pulled her hand back quickly and looked back up at the Boston girl. "I-I bit you?" she asked incredulously, scrambling out of the bed as though she needed to get far away from the dark-haired slayer. "I _drank _your blood?"

Faith quickly bent down to retrieve a worn t-shirt from the floor and hastily pulled it on over her head to cover the tell-tale scars. "Don't make a big deal outta it, okay?" she grunted.

"_Big Deal_?" Buffy repeated, tossing her hands in the air. "How can that _not _be a big deal?"

"It was a mistake, okay?" Faith snapped, narrowing her dark eyes. "I'd like to forget about it, if you don't mind. Wasn't exactly a shining moment for me or nothing."

"What _else _did I do to you?" the blonde demanded, her voice squeaking slightly.

Faith growled quietly and grit her teeth together. "I _said _forget about it."

"Well, no problem with that!" the Californian cried out bitterly. "Since I can't _remember _anything that happened," she reminded the brunette.

"Go to bed, B," the dark-haired girl gruffly ordered.

"Fine!" Buffy yelled, stomping over to the double mattress. She angrily yanked back the top comforter and a pink plush animal popped out. The blonde vampire pulled the toy out of his carefully tucked in position just underneath the top comforter. "Mr. Gordo?" she asked with a quizzical expression. She flashed her hazel-green eyes towards the raven-haired slayer. "How did you…"

Faith frowned. "You-you gave him to me," she explained vaguely, not ready to tell Buffy what had happened between them.

Buffy sighed deeply and dropped the stuffed animal back on the comforter. "Why does it feel like I've missed so much more than three months?" she asked, the defeat dripping from her sad tone. "I felt so caught up after I died the second time," she added. "But it's like…this time…the world moved on without me."

Faith shook her head animatedly. "No way, B. Everyone missed you."

Buffy looked at the dark-haired girl with a questioning frown. "Even you?"

The Boston girl dropped her head. "I-I didn't know you died," she muttered. "No one told me."

"Just like no one told me you were out of prison, huh?" the blonde tossed back angrily.

"Hey, don't blame that on me, Blondie," the dark-haired slayer snapped. "You coulda kept in contact. Coulda visited me or sent me a letter or something."

"The postal service works both ways, Fai," the blonde pointed out bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest. The two stood off in angrily silence until the burdensome stillness was broken by another resolute growl of Buffy's stomach.

"Goddamn it, Buffy." Faith laughed quietly and shook her head. For some reason, their situation was almost comical to the raven-haired woman. "Would you just feed off of me already?"

The elder slayer stuck her bottom lip out in a deep pout. "I don't want to," she mumbled crossly.

"For real, B. It's not gonna get any better and I'd prefer ya did it now rather than munching on me halfway through the night," she winked, trying to make the blonde feel more at ease about the situation. "You're not gonna hurt me," Faith contended. "Just…" she hesitated. "Just take a little, okay? It'll get you through the night at least, and in the morning I'll pick ya up something at the butcher's or the hospital."

"This is so embarrassing," the California complained, dropping her crossed arms at her sides in defeat.

Faith shrugged. "It's survival, B. Sometimes ya gotta do things you're not proud of just to get by." The Boston girl knew all too well the truth in her own statement.

"So where…where should I do it?" the blonde quietly stuttered as if embarrassed by the entire situation. She didn't want to appear too eager, but the pain in her stomach and raw aching in her throat was becoming almost unbearable.

Faith bit her bottom lip and felt her throat tighten, making it harder for her breathe evenly. "Well," she started, "I suppose it shouldn't be my neck or anywhere Angel or his crew could see. I'm sure the Big Guy would get super pissed if he knew I was letting ya…do this. Everyone was wicked nervous about me even letting you stay in my room tonight," she pointed out.

Buffy nodded in agreement. "You're right. Nowhere visible. So should you…" she hesitated and nearly blushed despite her undead status. "…take off some clothes? So I can do it somewhere more hidden?"

Mutant butterflies attacked the inside of Faith's stomach. The dark-haired girl had been naked in front of the elder slayer numerous times before with her penchant for exhibitionism and love of unraveling her sister-Slayer. But this was different. Buffy Summers was _asking_ her to take off her clothes.

Without another word, Faith grabbed at the hem of the old t-shirt and lifted the garment up her chiseled stomach, over the swell of her breasts, and off of her head. She sat in front of the vampire in only her shorts and bra.

Buffy sat down, resuming her place next to the half-naked Boston girl. Her fingertips skipped hypnotically down Faith's soft, exposed skin like feathery icicles, her fingers floating along the younger woman's deliciously defined clavicle. "Where should I…" she murmured softly. The tip of her tongue snaked past her slightly parted lips and wet her bottom lip.

Faith swallowed hard, but offered no advice or opinion.

The blonde slayer's fingers stopped at the twin shallow scars again. "Here?" she asked. Her slender digits gently traced around the small, angry circles.

"O-okay," the Boston girl choked out.

Buffy frowned, her eyes never leaving Faith's rapidly rising and falling chest. "I-I'm not sure I know how to…" she mumbled under her breath.

Faith took a chilly hand in her own sweaty palm. "Just do what feels natural, B," the Boston girl instructed lightly, finally forming sentences again. "It's like slaying, I bet. Let your instincts guide you."

Faith shut her eyes tight, waiting for the inevitable pain. Hesitantly, Buffy's angelic face transformed into a chaotic cluster of bumps and ridges. She dipped her head slightly, slowly closing the space between her mouth and the Boston woman's naked skin. Buffy sunk her teeth into the fleshy globe, her sharp canines melting through the brunette slayer's skin like a warm knife through butter.

"Ahhhh," the Boston girl half-sighed, half-yelled. She clutched the blonde girl by her strong upper arms. Faith readied herself in case she needed to shove the vampire away if Buffy was unable to stop drinking again.

The vampire whimpered into Faith's skin, continuing to suck hard as the addictive blood rushed into her mouth. A part of Buffy knew she should be disgusted and embarrassed by the very primal act, but her other instincts screamed at her to continue drinking. The thick crimson liquid coated her tongue and sent a warm and invigorated feeling through the undead woman's room-temperature body.

Beginning to feel a little weak, and unnervingly more than a little turned on, the Boston girl tapped Buffy's right arm. The Californian immediately pulled her elongated canines out of the younger slayer and the ridges on her face smoothed out.

Buffy ran her tongue along her top and bottom lips and flicked the tip of her tongue at the corners of her mouth, not wanting to let any of the delicious fluid go to waste. "That was…that was…" she stated, her unnecessary breath heavy and her hazel-green eyes flashing with specks of golden yellow. "Intense."

Faith could only grunt as she watched the blonde woman unabashedly clean her face of the life-giving liquid.

"Do you need me to get you a bandage or something?" the Californian questioned, concerned for the younger slayer's wellbeing now that her craving had been sufficiently sated.

"Nah, I'm five-by-five, B," the dark-haired girl insisted weakly. "Just gotta clean up a little in the bathroom and I'll be good."

Wordlessly, Faith stood from the bed and padded toward the bathroom. The Boston girl rummaged in the cabinets beneath the sink for the elaborate First Aid kit Angel kept fully stocked for the young slayer. She methodically pulled out the appropriate bandages from the plastic box and returned the kit to its place beneath the bathroom countertop.

The formerly rogue slayer righted herself and stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror.

She lightly touched the twin holes atop her right breast thoughtfully. Small rivers of blood continued to seep from the bite-mark and trickle down her breastplate.

"Do you mind…" Buffy's voice asked in her ear.

"Jebus, B," the Boston girl exclaimed, jumping a little. She turned away from the mirror to see the surprise in the blonde girl's face as well "Don't sneak up on me like that, eh?"

"S-sorry. I forgot I wouldn't have a reflection," Buffy bumbled. She looked away from the brunette and towards the mirror. Only the Boston girl appeared on the glassy plane. "That's…kind of creepy," she breathed.

"What is it, B?" Faith asked, still recovering from the shock. "What do you need?"

The vampire averted her eyes and coughed uncomfortably. "Just, you still, uhm, have some…"

"T-T-Today, Junior," the dark-haired girl deadpanned.

"The blood," Buffy clarified, clearing her throat. "I didn't want it to go to waste." She swallowed uncomfortably.

"Oh, uh…go ahead, I guess." The Boston slayer tilted her head slightly up, granting the undead slayer access to her torso.

Buffy held the girl lightly by her strong shoulders and dipped her head again towards the brunette's jutting clavicle. Her tongue snaked out and gently swapped against the tender skin, catching the stubborn droplets of blood that had collected around the shallow wound.

"Fuck, B." The rogue slayer swallowed hard and clenched the countertop tightly. Buffy's tongue intimately bathed the skin just above her tightening nipple. "You're killing me."

"What?" Buffy asked in a panicked voice. She looked up at the dark girl with fear in her eyes. "Did I take too much?"

"No, Twinkie," the Boston girl chuckled darkly. "Just gettin' me wicked horny is all."

"Oh, I...I didn't mean to..." Buffy stuttered, standing upright again.

"I know, Princess." Faith pushed out a long breath to calm herself. "Let's just get some sleep, okay?"

The blonde hesitated in the threshold of the bathroom and wrung her hands together in front of her body. "Are you gonna be able to sleep…you know…since you're, ahm,"

"Horny? Is that the word you're lookin' for?" Faith raised an amused eyebrow.

Buffy coughed again.

Faith wiggled her eyebrows at the vampire, pleased to be making the elder girl uncomfortable. This was a role in which she found comfort and confidence. Making Buffy blush about sex was like riding a bicycle. "You offerin' to help out, B?"

"No!" the blonde exclaimed in a rush. "I, ah, just could leave if you needed to, uhm, relieve yourself?"

"That's sweet of ya, B," Faith chuckled as she walked past the awkward blonde and back into the bedroom. "But I'll be fine. Besides," she added with a twinkle in her dark eyes. "After being in prison, I'm used to havin' an audience."

Flashback

"Fuck me, Faith. Harder."

Buffy felt the hands gripping onto her hipbones clench harder. The silicone toy thrust deeper into her wet core. The cool thighs of her partner lewdly slapped against her naked ass with each punishing penetration.

Buffy moaned and rested her full weight on the palms of her hands, dropping her head to look between her parted thighs. The dark purple strap-on sliced between her pussy lips and penetrated her deeply. Her partner's undulating, creamy white thighs contrasted starkly with the black leather harness strapped tightly to her lower torso.

The blonde woman grabbed onto handfuls of her hotel sheets and bit her bottom lip hard when she felt the fake cock bump against her G-spot. "Fuck, I'm close, Faith. Make me cum," she pled, her words hitching with every solid thrust.

Teeth sank hard into the base of her neck and the blonde woman screamed, curving her back into the violent embrace. Roaming hands released her hips and roughly grabbed her naked breasts. Her dark-haired partner pulled and twisted on the sensitive nipples, causing the blonde, on her hands and knees in front of her, to moan loudly.

The brunette woman leaned into the blonde vampire, her nipples brushing against the Californian's naked back. "Cum on my cock, Buffy," the girl rasped into her ear, her voice low and gravelly from too many cigarettes.

A tight, feminine arm wrapped around Buffy's slender waist, just beneath her slightly swaying breasts. Another hand snaked down the front of the blonde's torso, past her tight abdomen, shallow belly button, and down to her naked cunt.

"Oh God," Buffy panted, as the other woman expertly manipulated her throbbing clit.

"There is no God," the woman growled, continuing to punish the undead woman with her steadily thrusting hipbones. "Just me."

With a final scream, the blonde collapsed forward onto the soft mattress, causing her partner's fake phallus to slip out of her satisfied pussy. Buffy rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, her body still happily swimming from her orgasms. The brunette shimmied the tight leather harness down her hips and threw the phallic toy into a darkened corner of the hotel room.

"So who's this girl, anyway?" the dark-haired woman asked with a coy smile. She grabbed a cigarette from the crushed hard-pack on the end table. Lighting the tip, she inhaled and breathed out deeply, enjoying the slight buzz of nicotine. "Seems like you've got a massive hard-on for her. You always dress me up in leather and call me Faith whenever we play."

"Just a girl," the blonde vampire grunted, pulling the sheets more solidly over her small, bare breasts.

"We could always play something else you know," the woman purred, stroking a finger down the blonde woman's marble shoulder.

"I don't pay you for conversation," the slayer-vampire snapped. "I pay you to fuck me."

Her partner's face transformed into its horrifying demon visage. "So that's all I am to you?" she demanded, her formerly deep blue eyes now a violent yellow.

Buffy sat up in bed, not caring that the Egyptian-cotton sheets had slipped down her upper torso and pooled near her waist, leaving her breasts naked to the night air. The blonde rubbed at her temples with annoyance. "I'm going to shower," she stated, her tone unfeeling. "You know where the exit is."

The other soulless vampire threw the covers off her naked body and hastily recovered her haphazardly discarded clothing from off the floor. "You think you're so fucking special," she sneered as she pulled on her tight jeans. Her cigarette bobbed angrily from between her clenched lips. "Just because you were a Slayer doesn't mean shit now," the half-naked woman cursed. "You're just a vampire like the rest of us."

The blonde Californian moved quickly, the momentum of her assault crashing her lover's body against the plaster hotel walls. Buffy narrowed her hazel-green eyes and grimaced at the woman who struggled to remove the tightening fingers from around her neck. The vampire's eyes bulged although she didn't need the oxygen. Decapitation, on the other hand, was not something she was immune to.

"Leave here," Buffy snarled lowly. "And never return."

The former slayer released her crushing grip on the taller woman's neck and took a few steps backwards, as if challenging her opponent to defy her. The vampire rubbed her hands at her tender neck, sure that bruises would quickly form. "This isn't over," she choked, swallowing hard. The woman grabbed her shirt and shoes, and not bothering to fully dress, stormed out of the hotel suite, slamming the heavy door behind her.

Buffy stood, still naked, staring at the back of the closed door.

"No," she smiled strangely. "It's not over."

Present Day

Faith skipped down the Hyperion's formidable staircase towards the main level office area. Despite Buffy having fed from her the previous night and her recent trip to the Intensive Care Unit, the dark-haired slayer had never felt more alive or more invigorated. She had awoken from a restful sleep to find herself alone in her room. But knowing that the sunlight shone brightly beyond the heavy drapes, she knew the blonde vampire could not have gone far.

The Boston girl bounded down the wooden staircase to find the entire group assembled in a small half circle. Cordelia was sitting on the over-stuffed red couch, filing her nails while Gunn, seated next to her, polished a sword. Angel leaned against the office counter, deep in thought as he paged through an ancient-looking tome while Wesley thoughtfully scribbled down answers to his crossword puzzle.

Buffy stood detached from the close group of friends, absent-mindedly drinking from a white ceramic mug of B+ blood. She looked up from the steaming beverage cupped in her small hands when she felt the younger woman's presence and gave her a shy smile.

Willow crouched in the center of the spread-out group, and began drawing symbols on the floor with a thick, yellow paste.

Cordelia looked crossly at the redhead girl. "That stuff had better be water soluble," the former beauty queen muttered under her breath. "We just had the floors refinished."

Angel smiled when he looked up from his book and saw the Boston girl entering the large foyer. "Glad you made it through the night," he grinned, the many meanings of his statement not lost on the dark-haired girl. "Willow was just about to start her spell."

"So what do I do?" Buffy asked, her face hesitant and perplexed. "Shake my magic gourd and do the hokey-pokey?"

The assembled group gave the blonde slayer a collectively confused look. Buffy shrugged. "Giles would have thought that was funny," she mumbled, setting her half-finished mug on the lobby counter.

Willow cleared her throat, garnering the group's attention back to her. "Just stand in the center of the circle, Buffy. I just have to summon Kali, and she'll be able to tell me if it's really you or not."

"Isn't Kali a Hindu goddess?" Wesley asked, an interested look on his visage.

The Wicca nodded. "Yes. She's the Goddess of Time and Death, and she's also a Divine Mother Goddess."

"Wow, B," Faith chuckled, scratching at the back of her neck. "Pullin' out all the stops for you."

Buffy frowned. "I still don't know why all of this is necessary," she lightly complained. "Why can't you guys just look at me and be all intuitive?"

"She has a point, Red," the Boston slayer added. "Doesn't this seem overly elaborate?"

"This isn't like the time you and Buffy switched bodies, Faith," the Wicca proclaimed, offended to be challenged by the two slayers. Her words and attitude made the Boston girl blush with guilt and embarrassment. "I'm not looking for the wrong soul in a body. I'm looking for _a specific _soul. It's more complicated."

Faith held up her hands. "Okay, Red. Sorry. Just do your mojo so we can get on with our lives, okay?"

"I need everyone to be quiet now," Willow commanded, looking more annoyed. "This is a very sensitive spell."

The experienced Wicca took a deep breath and lit a small purple candle. "Oh, Divine Mother Goddess, we beseech thee," she proclaimed in a clear, strong voice. "Bring forth your chosen warrior. Shatter the mirrors. Banish the shadows. Show us what is real. Oh, Mother Goddess Kali," she continued, her eyes flashing, "show me the truth."

Willow blew out the candle and watched the thin wisps of smoke travel toward the vaulted ceilings of the former hotel. Her thin lips pursed and she looked solemnly at the blonde, still sitting anxiously in the center of the drawn circle.

"It's not Buffy."

The group of friends uttered a mixture of gasps and complaints in response to the Wicca's revelation. Everyone quickly turned and looked at the seated slayer, awaiting her reaction.

Buffy finally found her tongue: "What?"

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

"What do you mean it's not _me?_" Buffy scrambled to her feet, and stepped out of the center of the strange symbols Willow had scribbled on the hardwood floors of the Hyperion.

The redhead looked severely at the startled blonde slayer. "I mean you're not Buffy. You're just a vampire wearing her skin."

"This is absolutely _ridiculous_," the blonde woman protested, her body shaking from anger. "Your spell has to be wrong. I'm _Buffy."_

Willow crossed her arms stubbornly across her chest. "No, you're not," she stated flatly. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at the vampire. "My magic doesn't lie."

Buffy looked at the gathered group of friends. The majority of Angel's crew looked a mixture of surprise and disgust. "But I'm _me_. I'm Buffy," she repeated adamantly. "I'm not just pretending."

"Haven't you lied enough to us? Haven't you hurt us enough?" the redhead boldly stated. Her voice was cool and unemotional. "You're had your fun; just admit who you are already."

Buffy was unable to control her anger and her face morphed into her vampire mask. "_You _did this to me," the blonde woman bellowed, getting in the Wicca's face. Willow stepped backwards, both alarmed and frightened by the sudden outburst. "You made me into this _monster_."

The slayer snarled and lunged at the defenseless girl, but quickly found that Angel had positioned himself between the witch and the raging vampire.

"Everyone needs to calm down," the ancient man stated in a calm, low voice. He held both his arms out, separating the two friends.

"I will _not _calm down!" the slayer-vampire continued to seethe. She struggled to reach the witch, but instead settled for pointing accusingly at her best friend. "I know what's going on," she declared, her voice raising an octave as she reached the breaking point. After everything that had happened to her over the past twenty-four hours, the Chosen One was close to hysterics. "You feel guilty for what you did to me. And now you're trying to undo your mistake. I'm already _dead,_ so what's the harm in killing me again, right Willow!"

The witch's eyes flipped wide open, horrified by her old friend's accusation. "N-no, I would never do that," she quickly denied.

Buffy tore her eyes away from the flustered witch and gazed wildly at the Boston girl. "_You_ know it's me, Faith," she protested violently. "Don't let them do this to me."

The dark slayer found herself suddenly catapulted into the middle of the heated discussion. "I-I" she stuttered, grasping to find the right words. She didn't know what to say or how to feel. Could Willow's magic be wrong? Or was this really a soulless vampire in Buffy's clothing?

Buffy's hands flew to cover her demonic visage. Her shoulders slumped forward and her body shook, overcome by grief-filled sobs. "How can this be happening to me?" she cried out.

Angel looked away from the stricken slayer, denying the urge to comfort his former lover. "Willow," he began, "is there any way the spell could have gone wrong? Think hard," he implored. "Is there _any_ reason that it would be indicating that's not really Buffy?"

The redhead looked momentarily flustered as she mentally flipped through possible explanations for the spell's results. "No-no. Nothing I can think of."

The undead man ruffled his spiked hair and looked sadly upon his ex-girlfriend. "Then that means you have to leave. It's not safe for anyone, including you, if you stay."

"L-leave?" the blonde vampire fretted. Her face slipped back into its human form and she seemed to slightly calm down as she morphed out of Game Mode. "But…but it's still daylight? How can I possibly leave now?"

"You can use the sewer tunnels," Angel grunted, not wanting to feel anything but bitterness toward the blonde vampire. "Once you're gone, Willow will cast the protective spell again and you won't have access to the Hyperion anymore."

"Where do you expect me to go?" the California demanded, her eyes large and her bottom lip quivering.

Angel shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But you're no longer welcome here."

**_Flashback_ **

The blonde vampire brushed the gravel away from the palm of her hands. Vaulting out the window of a two-story building had seemed like good idea at the time, but now it just felt overly dramatic. Buffy began walking down an abandoned alley in the direction of her hotel.

Her plan was going well and she mentally congratulated herself on its progress. She had organized the hostage situation at the teen shelter for the sole purpose of ascertaining the Boston girl's emotions. Pretending to let Gunn have the upper hand in their hand-to-hand fight had all been an elaborate set-up. The vampire chuckled to herself. It was only a matter of time before she could persuade the raven-haired slayer into joining her in the shadows. Faith seemed as infatuated with the blonde girl as ever, even though Buffy had nearly killed the Boston girl.

A bright flash of white light filled the narrow, dim alleyway, causing the soulless creature to pause. The illuminated portal pulsed brightly and a vortex of darkness swirled in its center. Buffy shuffled backwards and away from the magical door just before two marbled figures stepped out of the portal's depths.

The Californian's hazel-green eyes went wide when she recognized the twins. "Y-you," she stuttered, taken aback by the unexpected visitors.

"We don't normally make house calls, vampire," the blue-veined male sniffed. "But for you, we had to make an exception."

The stony female took a step closer to the cowering demon. "You're messing everything up. Our Seers do not like what they have seen of the Future," she sternly noted. "And if Our Champion isn't prepared to kill you, We intend to stop you."

Present Day

"Hey, B! Buffy! Wait up!"

The blonde stopped her slow retreat and turned on her heels when she heard the familiar voice. After being verbally banished from the Hyperion by her former boyfriend and best friend, she had begun to wander through the underground city sewers. She didn't quite know where she was going, but she could at least remain in the subground tunnels until sunset.

The Boston woman jogged up to the small slayer and gave her a shy smile. "Where ya goin'?"

"I don't know," Buffy sighed. " But you should go back to your friends," the vampire mumbled sadly. "I'm apparently a dangerous demon."

Faith snorted. "I don't believe that for a second, B. I-I'm sorry I didn't speak up back there and have your back," she apologized with downcast eyes. "I-I was just stunned, I guess. Tongue tied. But I know that you're really Buffy."

The small slayer cocked a suspicious eyebrow at the taller woman. "How can you be so sure of yourself when everyone else couldn't wait for me to leave?"

The Boston girl set her jaw. "Cause I don't trust Willow," she stated flatly, pulling no punches. She shook her head, closing her eyes. "Besides," she added, "no way is the buzzing up my spine some kind of magical glamour."

"You've got a bee in your spine?" the blonde vampire deadpanned.

"You know what I'm talking about, B," the brunette said with an easy smile. "That buzz. That…that humming, tickling sensation at the base of your spine. Don't tell me you don't feel it?"

Buffy looked away from the eager girl. "No…I feel it too."

Faith grinned at the small woman's uncharacteristic honesty. Maybe Buffy's death would actually be good for their friendship – a constant reminder to not waste their limited moments together.

"Well c'mon, then," the brunette stated, hopping over a sewer vent. "This tunnel will take us right to my apartment."

Buffy gave the younger woman a strange look, but followed her down the narrow tube. "Your apartment?" she questioned. "I thought you stayed at Angel's?"

"Naw," the Boston girl chuckled. She kicked at a soggy piece of trash. "Soulboy just keeps a room there for me, uh," she hesitated, "in case I get hurt and he's feeling overly protective."

"Do you get hurt a lot?" Buffy asked, biting her bottom lip. She stepped over a pipe jutting out from the concrete wall.

The brunette pretended to be interested in the graffiti on the wall. "Just lately."

Sensing that the topic was a sensitive subject for the raven-haired slayer, Buffy decided to talk about something else: "So why do you think Willow's spell went wonky?"

The brunette flashed her dark eyes back at her sister-Slayer. "I think you were spot on, B. I bet the little witch is feelin' guilty for vampin' ya up and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to end her guilt."

"But she's my best friend," the blonde pointed out. "Why would she lie like that? Plus," the small slayer continued, "she's not even that good at lying. And she seemed pretty convincing; I mean, for a second even _I _thought it wasn't me."

Faith smiled despite the gravity of the situation. She clamped a sweaty hand around the blonde's thin wrist and pulled her toward a sewer opening. Access to her apartment's basement was just around the corner.

The Boston girl gave her sister-Slayer a cheeky grin. "Don't worry about Red and the rest of Angel's crew, B. I'll help ya figure this thing out."

"I can't believe you just let her leave like that," Gunn grumbled bitterly.

"Well, she couldn't stay here," Wesley pointed out. "She needed to leave."

"I'm not talking about that, Wes," the dark-skinned man complained. "I mean I can't believe we didn't dust that bitch."

Angel looked crossly at his friend and colleague. "Gunn, this is too important a thing to just go off half-cocked with stakes swinging wildly."

"Just cause she used to be your girlfriend," the demon fighter protested, "doesn't mean that vamp should get special treatment."

"He's right, Angel," Willow interjected. "Who knows what Buffy's planning? And now Faith's run after her? That can't be good."

"Faith's a big girl, Willow," Cordelia pointed out. "I'm sure she has her reasons for going after Buffy. Besides, it's not like we could have made her stay against her will."

"We _could_ have made her stay," the witch disputed, shaking her head, "There could have been ropes or chains or cages involved."

The high school beauty queen smirked at the former computer-hacker. "I didn't realize you had such a kinky side, Willow. I guess college _does _change a girl."

"This is _my city, _Willow," Angel interrupted the two classmates. "If you don't like how I'm handling things, then go back to Sunnydale."

"Fine," the redheaded witch huffed. "So what do you suggest we do now?"

The blonde woman sat down heavily on the couch in Faith's apartment. "I hate this, not knowing what I was up to," Buffy complained with a wistful sigh. "What could I have possibly been doing for three whole months? It couldn't have been good, that's for sure."

"Well, I may not totally be an expert on blackouts," Faith began, hovering over the seated girl, "but I do have _some _experience in that area. Empty your pockets," she ordered.

Buffy's delicate features scrunched together in confusion. "Huh?"

"Whenever I've had a little bit too much fun and I wake up the next day, not remembering what happened, the first thing I do is empty my pockets," the brunette explained. "I kind of look for clues, I guess."

"Oh, yeah. I guess that makes sense," the Californian agreed. Buffy stood up and wiggled her fingers into the impossibly tight pockets of her leather pants. Coming up empty, she looked elsewhere. The elder slayer slipped out of her black leather jacket and rummaged through its two outer pockets. She tossed a few wadded up dollar bills and wrappers onto the small coffee table. "No clues yet."

Faith picked up one of the crumbled bills and grinned mischievously as she fingered the money. "Unless these were your tips from the strip-club," she leered. "Slow day at the office, B?"

"Shut up," the blonde grumbled as she continued searching for other pockets. She slid her fingers along the jacket's liner, knowing that many of her own coats had inner pockets in which she kept weapons. Finding a hidden pocket, she deftly unzipped the inside compartment.

"Feels like a wallet," Buffy mumbled under her breath. The blonde fished out a small leather case and tossed her jacket on the floor so she could better investigate the wallet's contents. The golden-haired slayer placed each of the laminated and plastic cards on the table as she retrieved them. "Credit cards…Social Security card….Missouri license…" she observed.

Faith picked up the license. "Who's Tanya Rabbati?" she asked, scrutinizing the face on the I.D. card.

Buffy shrugged. "Never heard that name before."

"I've got an idea," Faith stated, flipping open her cell phone. She picked up one of the many credit cards and turned it over to look at the back.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked.

Faith punched a string of numbers into her phone and handed her cell to the blonde woman. "Someone stole your wallet and made a bunch of fraudulent charges on your credit card," she stated with a smile.

The blonde looked momentarily confused until Faith's plan became suddenly clear.

A voice on the line brought her back to the matter at hand: _"Capital One customer service. This is Greg. How can I help you today?"_

"Hi. I'm, uh, worried someone might have stolen my identity," the blonde slayer lied. She looked over at the Boston girl for support; Faith gave her a wide grin and two thumbs up. Buffy raked her fingers through her silken blonde hair. "Could you check on what the most recent charges to the card were?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

"Sure thing," the man on the line said. "I'll just need your name and the last four digits of your Social Security number."

The blonde hastily picked up the laminated card from the table. "Uh, my name is Tanya Rabbati; and the last four digits are one-four-seven-two."

The customer service representative paused and the vampire could hear the sound of typing in the background. _"Ms. Rabbati?"_

"Mmhmm...I'm still here," Buffy breathed into the cell phone. She clutched the phone tightly. If her vampire-self had used Tanya Rabbati's credit cards, maybe it would give her a better idea of what she had been up to the past few months.

"It looks like there were several charges in the past few weeks – all from the West Hollywood area," Greg informed her. "There's two significant charges recently. One totaling nearly $700 from Coco de Mer in West Hollywood and another for room charges at the Sunset Marquis."

"Okay," the vampire chirped. "Guess I was just worried for nothing. Thanks for your help." Buffy flipped the phone closed without saying goodbye.

"So?" Faith asked with an expectant look.

Buffy twisted her face into a confused frown. "Do the names Coco de Mer and the Sunset Marquis mean anything to you?"

"The first one, no," the brunette stated. "But isn't the Sunset Marquis some swanky hotel over in West Hollywood?"

"That could be it," the blonde vampire nodded. "The credit card guy said that place Coco de Mer is in West Hollywood, too. I apparently spent $700 there and stayed at the Sunset Marquis."

"I'll be right back," the Boston girl informed the sister-Slayer. Faith disappeared briefly into the back half of her apartment and came back with a white Macbook in her hands.

"_You _have a computer?" the blonde asked, mildly amused. She sat back down on the couch.

The Boston girl scowled as she sat next to the elder slayer and flipped the laptop open. "Just cause you don't know how to use email, Twinkie, doesn't mean the rest of us live in the Middle Ages."

Buffy leaned closer to the taller brunette and peered over her shoulder. The Boston-born-slayer's heart throbbed faster and her blood raced a little harder inside her veins from the blonde's sudden proximity. Buffy swallowed hard and stared at the younger woman's neck, memorized by the rhythmic pulsing of her jugular.

"Uhm, what – what are you doing?" Buffy panted. The slayer-vampire sat up a little straighter on the couch and closed her eyes, feeling slightly weak. The younger woman smelled too good for her to completely ignore her demonic urges.

Faith's slender fingers flew across the keyboard. "Googling," she breathed, ignorant of her sister-Slayer's internal struggle.

"What?" Buffy asked, having never heard the word before.

"Looking up this Coco de Mer thing," the raven-haired woman clarified. "You never know; it could be an important clue." When the browser finished searching, her eyes went wide. "Holy shit," she mumbled under her breath.

Buffy pushed past the brunette to see what had caused her such alarm. Faith's reaction made her momentarily forget the urge to nibble on the pulse point in her neck. "What? What is it?" she asked, her eyes scanning the computer screen.

The blonde gasped and brought a hand up to her mouth. "Oh. My. God."

Faith suddenly erupted in laughter, holding her sides as she bent over in mock pain. The brunette woman hadn't laughed this hard since…ever.

"Buffy," she choked out between bursts of laughter. "You spent $700 on _sex toys._"

"I need you to put a magical trace on Buffy. I want to know where she is at all times," Angel instructed the redheaded Wicca. "I'd have someone trail her, but it's too dangerous. Buffy's going to assume I'm having someone follow her, anyway."

Willow frowned at the soul'd vampire's request. "I can't do that," she said, shaking her head. "I don't have anything of hers here."

"What about the pig?" Cordelia added.

The redhead blushed. "Well, there _is _Mr. Gordo. But he belonged to Buffy." The witch shook her head. "And like I've already told you; that vampire _isn't _Buffy. Besides, without a soul, there's nothing inside her that I'd be able to latch onto. She doesn't have an aura, or an essence. I might as well put a trace on every soulless vampire in Los Angeles."

"What about Faith?" the undead man scowled. "Can you put a trace on her?"

"Yeah, sure. That would be easy," Willow began, cocking her eyebrow at the ancient vampire. "I mean, as long as she has personal items up in her room I could do the spell. But how do you know tracing Faith is going to help us keep track of Buffy?" she questioned.

Angel grimaced. "I can guarantee that Faith's not going to let Buffy out of her sight."

The redhead sighed defeatedly. "Fine. I'll put a trace on her," she finally conceded. "But don't blame me if Faith suddenly gets all soulless too."

"Dang, B," Faith whistled. "Did you eat a millionaire?"

The two slayers had waited until the sun set fully into the Los Angeles horizon before seeking out the first clues Greg at Capital One had helpfully supplied. Because Buffy had vehemently protested going to Coco de Mer, the Sunset Marquis was their only other lead. The brown-haired woman gazed admiringly at the outside façade of the upscale West Hollywood hotel.

The blonde woman swatted the younger slayer's bicep. "Stop it," she hissed under her breath. She looked anxiously around at the other hotel guests, worried that someone might have overheard the Boston girl. "I didn't _eat _anybody."

Faith pursed her lips. "Far as you know, at least."

Buffy grabbed onto the brunette's hand. "Let's go," she urged, dragging Faith toward the revolving doors. "We look like tourists gawking out here."

"Ms. Rabbati, welcome back," came a gentle masculine voice. The hotel's concierge stood before them in the lobby and recognized the high-maintenance guest immediately. The blonde woman had quirky requests, but was an excellent tipper. "Is there anything we can do to be of assistance tonight?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"I, uh, can't remember my room number," the vampire admitted. She pulled the plastic keycard out of the back pocket of her form-fitting pants. "I've still got the key though."

The concierge nodded his head quickly. "Of course. No worries. It happens all the time." The tall, slender man snapped his fingers and an appropriately dressed bellhop immediately appeared by his side. "Carlo, please escort Ms. Rabbati and her guest up to her villa."

The bellhop took the keycard from the blonde and led them toward the elevator. The slayers followed the hotel employee inside the narrow trolley, and the three rode up in awkward silence until the elevator doors opened at one of the top floors. Wordlessly, Carlo led them down a carpeted hallway and stopped in front of a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Will that be all, Ms. Rabbati?" he asked, returning the keycard to her pale hand.

"Erm, yes. Uh, thank you – uhm – Carlo," the vampire stuttered.

The hotel employee continued to stand in the hallway. Faith nudged her sister-Slayer. "He's waitin' on a tip, _Ms. Rabbati,_" she mumbled under her breath.

The vampire looked momentarily flustered as she dug in her coat pockets. "I, uh, don't seem to, uh, have any…"

The Boston girl rolled her eyes dramatically and dug into her well-worn leather wallet for a bill. "I can't believe this," she muttered under her breath, handing the bellhop the last of her cash.

After Carlo exited from their view, the dark-haired slayer entered the suite. Faith whistled lowly as she walked through the threshold of the hotel room. Running her fingertips along the mahogany top of the wet bar just beyond the room's foyer, she walked into the center of the impressive villa.

Buffy remained standing anxiously in the hallway. "There aren't any dead bodies in there, are there?" she called out nervously. "Would you check for me?"

The Boston girl did a quick sweep of the impressive digs. She found an upgraded bathroom – nearly the size of the living room at her apartment – and a plush bedroom, furnished with a California King. Returning to the suite's foyer she motioned for the blonde woman to enter. "C'mon in, cupcake," Faith implored. "The coast is clear. Looks like you didn't turn all Ted Bundy on us; at least not in your hotel room."

The blonde woman stepped into the room with a look of relief splayed across her angelic face. "Hey," she remarked, looking at her body. "I got in the room, no problem."

"That's cause it's _your _room, sweet cheeks." Faith sat down on an over-stuffed couch in the sunken living room. "Even if you stole the credit cards you're payin' with, it's still your place of residency."

"When did you get so smart about vampire invites?" the elder slayer asked with a coy smile.

Faith shrugged. "Did a lot of readin' in prison," she revealed. "You shoulda seen the librarian's face when I asked her if they could ship in books about demons and vampires for me," she added with a chuckle and a wink.

"So now what?" the blonde asked, plopping down next to the Boston girl. "We've found out that my vampire self likes gay hotels and an inappropriate amount of sex toys. What's next?"

Faith kicked her feet up on the large circular ottoman near the couch and allowed herself to relax for the first time around the unpredictable vampire. "Well," she began, her face thoughtful, "the first time I ran into you was at some goth bar over in Mid-City. You were shakin' what your momma gave ya and feastin' on the regulars," she remarked with a cocky grin. "How's about we dress you up and do a little investigating?"

"Investigating at a goth bar?"

"Sure, why not?" Faith shrugged. "And who knows, you might actually have a little fun while we're at it," she smiled wickedly. "I gotta do a quick patrol first, but then I'm all yours for the rest of the night."

Buffy bit her bottom lip and considered her sister-Slayer's proposition. Any lead was a welcomed lead at this point – even if it meant finally admitting to herself that she had killed innocent people along the way.

The brunette wiggled her eyebrows at the vampire, waiting her answer. "So what do ya say, B?"

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

The Boston girl chuckled to herself as she rummaged through the various outfits in Buffy's walk-in closet. She held up two different pairs of leather pants to her lower torso and silently lamented how much taller she was than Buffy. It was a shame to let leather go to waste, after all. And she doubted the Chosen One would make good use of her new, inherited wardrobe.

Buffy walked out of the master bathroom. "What's so funny?" she demanded, running a wide-toothed comb through her wavy blonde locks.

Faith looked over her shoulder at her sister-Slayer and tried not to drool. Facing a minimal amount of resistance, the Boston girl had convinced her golden-haired colleague to wear an outfit she had picked out. If they were going to investigate at a gothic bar, she reasoned to the elder slayer, then Buffy needed to look the part.

The lithe woman wore a short leather skirt, black leggings, and a dark purple halter that squeezed her modest breasts together. The vampire's midsection was deliciously bare, displaying the Californian's well-disciplined stomach. Her normally flat-ironed hair fell in wild, loose waves and her hazel-green eyes were outlined by dark kohl-eyeliner.

"Guess Dawnie won't be playing dress up with Big Sis's clothes anymore," the Boston girl murmured appreciatively. She allowed her gaze to linger on the smaller woman's svelte form.

"Oh, no! Dawn!" Buffy blurted out, nearly dropping her brush on the carpeted floor. "I hope she's okay," she worried aloud. "She still thinks I'm dead!"

Faith clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and returned the clothes to the wardrobe. "You _are _still dead."

Buffy shook her head, and a small smile curled onto her red lips. "Details, details," she lightly chuckled. The Californian hiked a leg up on the king-sized bed and bent at the waist to zip up knee-high black boots over her dark leggings.

Faith unconsciously licked her full lips as her eyes trailed along Buffy's slender legs from the boots up to where her dark leggings disappeared underneath the short skirt. "Gotta say, B," the brunette cooed, "dead looks good on you."

The Boston girl kept the remainder of her musings inside her head: _But_ I _would look even better on you._

I'm serious, Fai," the blonde sighed, standing upright. "I should really get back to Sunnydale. I have no idea who's watching Dawn since Willow's here in LA. But I _need _to find out what I did the past three months, or it's gonna drive me crazy. And I've got to figure out how I got my soul back," she added with a wistful look.

Faith sat down on the oversized bed and became momentarily lost to her own thoughts. The formerly rogue slayer hadn't thought about Buffy returning to Sunnydale until just now when the blonde had brought up the topic. But the younger slayer knew it was inevitable. Buffy had a life and a family back in SunnyHell. Faith knew her elder counterpart couldn't shirk her responsibilities and gallivant around Los Angeles with her forever.

"Do I need a belt with this skirt?" Buffy asked with her hands on her hips.

"Hmmm?" The brunette woman blinked a few times and shook her head, finally allowing her gaze to resettle on the expectant blonde. "Oh. Yeah," Faith nodded. "Maybe something studded."

Buffy hummed a wordless tune under her breath as she opened the top drawer of the hotel dresser. Her eyes flipped wide open and the song became lost in her throat, however, when she saw the contents of the bureau. She quickly slammed the drawer shut and moved on to the shelf below it.

The Californian's horrified expression was not lost on the brunette woman. "What's wrong, B?" Faith asked with a little grin. "What's in that drawer?"

"Erm, nothing really," the vampire lied, not looking up to meet her sister-Slayer's predatory gaze. "No belts," she babbled uncomfortably. "Just looking for a belt."

The Boston girl hopped off of the bed and flew toward the drawer with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. "Uh-uh, Blondie. You're not gettin' away with that. You're a terrible liar."

The vampire positioned her body between the furniture and the dark beauty. "Please, Faith. Don't open it," she pled. "It's _so _embarrassing."

"Outta my way, B," the brunette purred, licking her full lips. "That is, unless you _like _being a Buffy sandwich."

Buffy could smell the sweet breath of her taller colleague – a mix of menthol and mint. Her warm breath delicately tickled against the blonde's neck. Faith pressed the front of her warm body more fully into the smaller slayer, causing Buffy's backside to bump against the wooden bureau. The furniture quietly creaked and groaned from the pressure of two feminine bodies pressed tightly against it.

"Uhm..I…" the blonde mumbled. She stared into the younger slayer's chocolate eyes and watched mesmerized as the dark pupils slightly dilated. Buffy could feel the Boston girl's heart beating rapidly inside her chest, and it made it difficult for her to form complete thoughts. The undead woman closed her eyes momentarily, futilely ignoring the mental picture of Faith's thick, warm blood throbbing through her veins.

Faith abruptly shoved the vampire out of the way, determined to examine the contents of the bureau drawer. Buffy jarred sideways, nearly falling over. Her arms flailed slightly in the air as she attempted to regain her balance.

The brunette yanked the top shelf open and released a shallow gasp. "Holy hell, Twinkie," Faith exclaimed, her words dripping with approval. "I never knew you had it in you." The Boston girl snickered at her choice of words. "But maybe I shoulda said, lookit all you've _had in you_."

The Californian groaned and flopped down on the bed. She covered her face with her hands. "I'm in Hell," she mumbled. "I died, and I'm in Hell."

The brunette fished around the top drawer and pulled out an impressive vibrator. "This might be your Hell, but _I _think I'm in Heaven. Damn girl," she laughed, returning the toy back to the bureau. "I don't think I even know where half of this stuff _goes_."

"Can we just go now?" the small slayer whined, sticking her bottom lip out in an impressive pout.

"What for, B?" the taller woman leered, still sifting through the drawer. "Looks like we've got enough stuff in here to keep us entertained for at least one night."

Buffy tried to ignore the younger woman's over-the-top innuendos. "So…" she began, rifling through her brain for a subject change, "You wanna do a quick patrol and then go play Encyclopedia Brown?"

"Role playing?" Faith wiggled her eyebrows lasciviously and closed the dresser drawer the a nudge of her hip.

The small blonde rolled her eyes dramatically. "God, don't you ever stop?"

"Naw, B," the Boston girl said with a sly wink. "I can go all night long."

"Encyclopedia Brown was a kid detective in a series of children's books," the blonde stated matter-of-factly. "My dad used to buy me a new book whenever he'd come back from one of his business trips."

"Oh." Faith made a face. "Wasn't much of a reader when I was little. Not much of a reader now either," she admitted sourly, "unless you count comic books."

"Are you sure this outfit is okay?" Buffy looked down at her carefully chosen ensemble again. "'Cause I don't think I can squeeze any more leather on my body without looking like a suitcase."

"Believe me, B," the dark-haired woman assured the vampire. "You look good enough to eat."

The two slayers weaved their way through the front lobby of the Sunset Marquis. Buffy felt slightly embarrassed to be dressed in such revealing clothing when the majority of the other hotel patrons wore business suits and long, flowing dresses. If they could only get out the front revolving doors with no one seeing them…

"Ms. Rabbati, will you be needing your vehicle tonight?" A helpful male voice caused the two women to halt their exit. "I can call the valet to bring it around for you?"

Buffy looked at the dark slayer with panic in her hazel-green eyes. "I have a car?" she mumbled to the younger woman.

"Oh, this I've _got _to see," the brunette beamed. "With your driving skills, it probably looks like something from a crash-car derby." Faith turned to grin at the hotel clerk behind the front desk. "Bring the car around, Jeeves," the Boston girl ordered, with one finger in the air.

"I can't believe you're enjoying this so much," the blonde muttered when the hotel employee left to call for her vehicle.

"What's _not _to love, B?" Faith smiled, drumming her fingers against the hotel counter. "Isn't playing detective a little fun?"

"Whatever," Buffy huffed. "You're not the one with the three month-long blackout binge."

"True that," the Boston girl nodded. She wiggled her eyebrows at the elder slayer. "But I just love watchin' you squirm."

The hotel employee reappeared in front of the two leather-clad women. "Ms. Rabbati," he smiled kindly, "your car will be out front in just a minute."

The two women left the hotel lobby through the front revolving doors and stood on the curb. A menacing vehicle covered in chrome sped around the corner and stopped abruptly in front of the slayers.

The Boston woman's jaw fell open. "Holy shit, B," she laughed.

"I have a _Hummer?"_ Buffy sputtered, her bright eyes wide with surprise.

"Oh _hell_, yeah," the younger woman smirked, snatching the keys from the parking attendance. Faith opened the drivers' side door and hopped up into the elevated vehicle. Her hands curled around the leather steering wheel and she grinned. "This night just keeps getting better."

After parking the less-than-subtle vehicle a few blocks away, Faith led the elder slayer to a small, out-of-the way cemetery within the city limits. The Boston girl knew from months of patrolling that vampires were fairly scarce in the quaint pauper field. Although she didn't want to shy away from the opportunity to fight side-by-side with the blonde woman again, she was somewhat hesitant to face off against too many vampires with the elder slayer, now that Buffy was one of the undead as well.

"So you patrol pretty regularly, huh?" Buffy asked, catching up to the long strides of the taller woman.

Faith nodded. "Yeah, I try to every night, unless I'm banged up too bad. Then Angel or Gunn will do a sweep for me. LA's a little bigger than Sunnydale, so it's nice to have the help."

The blonde snorted. "Yeah, just a _little _bigger."

The two continued walking down a cobblestone path in the dark cemetery in silence. Buffy looked sideways at the taller slayer. "Gotta say. I'm definitely impressed. I never imagined you still be slaying after…" she paused, looking for the words that wouldn't offend her colleague, "…everything that happened."

Faith ran her fingers through her long, dark waves. "Yeah, me either," she admitted. She cleared her throat, feeling herself getting a little choked up. "Prison was probably the best kind of rehab for me though. About halfway through I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started wanting to really reform."

Buffy gave the taller woman a shy smile and slipped her cool hand into Faith's, lightly interweaving their fingers. "Faith?"

"Mmhmm?" The brunette found her mind lost in the cool grip of her sister-Slayer.

The blonde chewed on her bottom lip and remained momentarily silent as if unsure how to proceed. Finally, she asked the question that had plagued her since first seeing the former convict in the lobby of the Hyperion. "Why didn't you come back to Sunnydale after you were released from prison?"

Faith pushed out a long breath between her lips. She had wondered when the blonde would get around to asking her this question. The Boston girl felt the vampire's marble touch subtly tighten, as if silently encouraging her to reveal her secrets.

"To be honest, B," the dark-haired woman began, "I wasn't totally convinced that I was reformed when they first let me outta prison. Gettin' out early for good behavior was a total shock." Faith shook her head. "I mean, I kept my nose clean, but not _that _clean. I guess I was worried that if I went back to Sunnydale – threw myself back into the place where it had all gone wrong – I'd relapse. Kinda like a recovering alcoholic avoiding the discount liquor store, ya know?"

Buffy nodded and remained silent. She didn't let go of the Boston girl's hand, however, and Faith squeezed her fingers. "Since we're all about the honesty tonight," the raven-haired rogue started with a sly smile, "how come you never visited me in prison?"

"You mean when I wasn't busy dieing?" the Californian quickly quipped.

The brunette chuckled and swung their conjoined arms back and forth like a swing-set. "Yeah, I guess being six-feet under's a good excuse."

"I guess I was embarrassed," Buffy offered. "The way things ended between us, I just felt…" She paused, searching her emotions for the Truth. "I followed you to Los Angeles and acted like a raging lunatic," she exasperated. "Threatening to kill you if you apologized? What was _that _about?"

"I didn't exactly have a monopoly on sanity myself, B," Faith reminded the elder woman.

Buffy nodded, remembering all-too-well the Boston girl's fragile sanity. The Californian took a deep breath, a reflex, rather than a necessity. "This is nice," she breathed. "It's so quiet out here. I haven't had a moment of silence since waking up, it seems."

Faith tilted her head to the dark sky. Only a few stars were visible due to the city lights and pollution. The night air felt crisp and the faint scent of burning leaves lingered in the air. The dark-haired woman looked back at the profile of her sister-Slayer and tensed suddenly when she saw her features.

"Uh, Buff?" she stated awkwardly.

Buffy stopped walking and turned to fully face the younger slayer. "Yeah?"

"Might wanna do something about your mug," the Boston girl joked. "I don't think bumps are in style this season."

"Oh God," the blonde gasped, covering her face to hide her demonic visage. "I still don't have control over that," she lamented. "You must think I'm horrifying."

"You could never be anything but beautiful to me, B," the Boston girl admitted quietly.

"Oh, well…umm…thank you," Buffy verbally blushed. She pulled her hands away from her face and the bumps and ridges smoothed out. The elder slayer cast her eyes away and looked slightly embarrassed to have lost control like that. The Californian's bashfulness was contagious, however, and Faith suddenly felt as though she had revealed too much.

The Boston girl kicked at a small pebble, sending it careening off the narrow pathway. "So, uhm," she bumbled awkwardly. "Wanna go dancing?"

Suggested Listening: "Bad Things" – Jace Everett

"I thought you said this was a goth bar?"

The two stood in the entranceway of the club where Faith had first run into the vamped-up slayer. The normally chaotic dance floor in the center of the club now featured tidy, neat rows of solitary dancers. If the Boston girl didn't know any better, she would have thought they were practicing some new kind of gothic army drill. But no, they were just line dancing.

"And just when you think you've seen everything," the brunette woman muttered as a burly tattooed man passed them on the way to the restroom. His kohl-lined eyes seemed a little less imposing because of the small cowboy hat on top of his head.

"C'mon, Twinkie," Faith chuckled. She grabbed onto Buffy's elbow and led her deeper into the dank club. "At least the alcohol won't have changed on us."

The two women saddled up to the long bar. Faith nodded at the pale-skinned bartender. "What's up with the cow-folk?"

The bartender grimaced slightly, sticking out his forked tongue just beyond his parted lips. "Gothic cowboys. Who knew? Don't worry though, Sweetness," he winked. "This nonsense only goes until midnight." He wiped down the sticky bar top with a white rag. "What can I get for you and your lady friend?"

Faith held up two fingers. "Gimme two beers and two Afterburners."

The bartender gave the brunette woman a curt nod and turned his back to fill the order.

The vampire scrunched up her face. "Afterburner?" she repeated the word waveringly. "Why does that sound dangerous?"

The Boston girl laughed at the novice drinker. "Don't worry, Lightweight. You'll like it. It's got all kinds of girly alcohol in it: Malibu, Bailey's…"

"Oh, well I _do _like those," the Chosen One smiled as she took a seat on one of the empty bar stools.

"See?" the younger woman grinned, sitting down beside the blonde. "I wouldn't steer ya wrong."

The tattooed bartender turned around again and placed four drinks in front of the slayers. "Two beers and two Afterburners."

Buffy reached for the smaller drink, but pulled her hand back when the bar employee produced a Bic lighter. She watched as the man lit the top of each shot, creating a pale blue flame.

"Thanks muchly," the Boston girl smiled, giving the bartender a wink. "Bottoms up, B," she grinned. Faith blew on the top of her drink, extinguishing the flame, and quickly tipped the shot back.

Buffy made a face, but picked up the fiery alcohol. She filled her lungs, pursed her lips and blew. But nothing happened.

"Erm, Faith?" The blonde stared nervously at the flaming shot glass. She tried blowing again, but with the same results. "Uh, Faaiiith," she sing-songed, tugging at the taller woman's arm. Buffy cautiously placed the shot back on the bar and leaned away from the burning beverage.

The Boston girl swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, wiping away the remnants of alcohol. "B, you gonna drink that or just let it burn down the bar?"

"I don't have any breath," Buffy explained, still staring at the small shot glass.

"Oh! My bad!" The younger slayer bent slightly at the waist and quickly blew out the burning drink. "Sorry, B. I didn't even think about that."

Buffy stared at the wasted drink, silently lamenting the loss of another function that made her human. Faith slid a glass bottle in the elder slayer's direction, garnering her attention once more. "Here, B," she coaxed. "Don't need air to drink a beer. Or better yet," she said with a wink, hoping to lighten the blonde's mood, "there's always body shots."

The elder slayer grabbed the beer bottle and took a long pull from the cool liquid. She quickly swallowed and hungrily went back for more. Buffy hadn't fed since earlier that morning, before getting banished from the Hyperion, and was starting to get hungry again. Although the alcohol wasn't what she really desired, the liquid was soothing in its own way.

"Looks like you found another brunette to scratch that itch for you."

Buffy turned away from the bar to find the owner of the bitter voice. A pretty brunette with a scowl across her face stood with her arms folded across her chest. Her blood-red lips were twisted in a grimace. Her dark hair was long and hung straight down her back. Her skin was eerily white, even for being a patron of this bar.

The blonde vampire's eyes grew wide, the neck of the beer bottle still between her lips. She flashed her eyes in the direction of the Boston girl and gave her a small shrug with her eyebrows, hoping the younger woman could read her thoughts. Buffy had no recollection of who this woman might be.

"I can't believe you would bring another girl here. And a human, at that!" the stranger sniffed, uncrossing her arms and clenching her fists at her sides. "You know I always come here on Thursday nights." Anger seemed to roll off the curvaceous woman in waves.

"Hey there," the dark slayer interrupted. She stuck her outstretched hand in the disgruntled woman's face. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Faith."

The dark-haired stranger looked between Faith's hanging hand and the blonde slayer's face. "So _this _is the infamous Faith," she purred, the corners of her mouth curling up.

"Uh, yeah. I'm Faith. And that would make you…?" the brunette slayer trailed off.

The anonymous woman stared hard at the perplexed blonde. "Just the replacement," she growled quietly.

Buffy swallowed down her beer and pretended to be interested with the design on the bottle's label. She didn't know who this woman was, but the familiar way in which she stared at her made the Californian squeamish.

Faith dropped her hand at her side. "This place is pretty dead tonight…if you'll pardon the pun," the Boston girl winked playfully. "How about the three of us go someplace more happenin'?"

The dark-haired stranger paused momentarily, looking thoughtfully between the two women. "I don't want to be a third wheel," she muttered, unable to keep her eyes from lingering on the undead woman's slight curves.

"The more the merrier, right Buffy?" the raven-haired woman beamed.

"Will you excuse us for just a minute?" Buffy asked in a panicked voice as she dragged Faith a few feet away. "What are you doing?" the undead slayer hissed at her darker colleague. Her hand tightened around the Boston woman's bicep. "She's obviously a vampire."

The Boston girl nodded. "But she's a vampire who seems to know _you. _This is the lead we've been waiting for, B," she stated emphatically. Faith glanced back at the other brunette woman. The demon was giving the two slayers an impatient look. "Just play along," the raven-haired slayer insisted. "Nothing bad's gonna happen, okay?"

The blonde grimaced. "I know. You're right – this is the kind of thing we've been looking for. But…I'm starting to get a little _hungry_," she stated with a small frown.

Faith waved a hand in the air, dismissing the elder woman's concern. "If it gets too bad, then just have s'more of mine. I've got plenty of blood to go around."

The undead slayer worried her bottom lip and sighed. "Encyclopedia Brown never had to deal with anything like this."

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

The three women wove around piles of discarded trash and empty cardboard boxes. Faith confidently followed the brunette vampire, yet internally she questioned if she had made the right choice in convincing her blonde-colleague to leave with their new acquaintance. Buffy obediently followed the dark slayer, deeper down the narrow alley, holding anxiously onto the crook of her arm.

The strange vampire, who had later introduced herself as "Vivien," stopped in front of a blood red door. She turned briefly to the stricken blonde. "I thought we'd stop by one of our old haunts, Sweetie," she smiled saccharinely.

Buffy nodded and gave the dangerous creature a tight-lipped smile. "Sounds great," she forced out.

The undead brunette stared eerily at the other vampire, but shook her head after a moment. Turning away from the two slayers, Vivien knocked briskly on the iron door. Reminding the slayers of some old Mafia cliché, a small trap window squeaked noisily open. Two blood-shot eyes stared back at the threesome. "Yeah?" a gravely male voice snarled out into the alley.

"Let us in," Vivien sighed, clearly annoyed by the delay.

The demonic eyes scanned the attractive group. "Identification?" he demanded.

Buffy instinctively reached into her jacket pocket for her State ID, but tensed when she remembered the drivers license in her stolen wallet didn't have _her _picture on it. How was she going to get into this club?

Vivien flashed her fangs at the doorman. "That good enough for ya?"

The red-rimmed eyes appeared unimpressed. "What about your two friends?" he sniffed.

Buffy smiled at the bouncer and allowed her fangs to slip out as well before morphing back to her human canines.

The demon behind the door raised a thick eyebrow. "And the other one?"

The brunette vampire grabbed Faith's bicep. "She's with us," she stated boldly, glaring at the bouncer, challenging him to deny her this.

The trap door crunched closed and the heavy metal door swung open, screaming and protesting against the rusty hinges. The three women quickly entered the club and the heavy door closed solidly behind the group.

The bouncer was a thick-necked vampire in a dirty white tank top. Two arm-sleeves decorated his beefy biceps and forearms. The undead man lit a cigarette and gazed admiringly at the feminine forms. "Have fun in there, ladies," the lecherous demon rasped.

The three women walked past the coat-check station and descended a narrow set of twisting stairs. Faith's knees buckled slightly when she walked deeper into the poorly lit club. "Woah," she mumbled under her breath, allowing her blonde colleague to hold her up. "Vampire bar," she muttered to the other slayer. The Boston woman took a couple of deep breaths, willing the room to stop spinning. With so many vampires surrounding her in such a confined space, her Slayer senses were overwhelmed.

Buffy paused momentarily, sensing her dark-haired friend's ill ease. "Are you okay?" she whispered, low enough for only Faith to hear.

The raven-haired beauty coughed once, clearing her throat, and stood a little straighter on her own. "Five-by-five, B," she stated finally.

"I don't think this is a good idea," the blonde vampire murmured in her sister-Slayer's ear as they followed Vivien toward the bar. The bar had no windows and the walls were painted black. A scattering of overhead lights illuminated the dank space. Buffy could feel the lingering eyes of dangerous vampires sizing them up. The small, dark room seemed to ooze death.

Faith clutched onto Buffy's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "You'll be fine, B," she smiled. "Just act like a big bitch and everyone will think you're the same soulless bloodsucker."

The Californian subtly rolled her eyes. "I'm not worried about _me_," she stated through clenched teeth. "I can handle myself. I'm worried about _you_," she admitted. "I can't protect you from all of these vampires."

Faith patted the elder woman's chilly hand patronizingly. "That's real sweet, B." She batted her eyelashes. "But I'm a big girl."

"But we're _surrounded _by vampires." Buffy narrowed her hazel-green eyes at the reckless woman.

Faith looked disgruntled by her blonde colleague's adamant behavior. "Hey Viv," she called out. The brown-haired vampire turned away from the bar and raised an eyebrow. "We're just gonna hit the john, okay?"

Vivien pursed her lips. "You don't have to tell _me _twice," she snickered. "I know how much Buffy likes bathrooms."

The blonde stood bewildered and allowed the dark-haired slayer to drag her away to the unisex restroom. "What does _that _mean?" she wondered aloud.

Buffy stared at her non-reflection in the mirror and waited for the Boston woman to exit the bathroom stall.

"Why would they have mirrors in the bathroom of a _vampire_ bar?" she questioned. She looked away from the plane of glass when she heard the toilet flush.

Faith swaggered out of her stall and zipped up the front of her pants. Buffy averted her eyes when she saw a flash of dark purple lace. The brunette maneuvered her way in front of the other slayer to wash her hands. "Dunno, B. Some kind of twisted irony, I suppose," she stated, as she lathered up her hands. Liquid handsoap in a demon bar made her curious as well. Did vampires really worry about germs?

Buffy placed her hands on her hips as she watched the carefree slayer finish washing her hands. "How can you be so calm and collected when this place is teeming with vampires?" she demanded.

The Boston girl shrugged as she dried her hands. "Listen, if you're really that afraid for my safety, all you have to do to tell them I'm yours."

"Say that again?" the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow.

Faith wiped her slightly damp hands on the back of her pants. "There's like an unwritten blood sucker rule – it might actually be written down, now that I think about it. If a vampire claims a human as his or her own, no other vamp can touch 'em."

"So all I have to say is that you're mine and they'll leave you alone?" the Californian asked incredulously. "How do you know this and I don't?"

"Angel and I used to do it all the time in some of the outskirt demon bars," Faith explained nonchalantly. "If we needed to go there to pump some baddie for information, he'd tell the other vamps that I belonged to him and they'd leave us alone."

Buffy's eyes grew wide. "Angel did that? With _you?_"

The Boston girl scowled. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Blondie. I'm not hording in on your man if that's what you're thinkin' – it was purely professional."

"No, I…that's not what I…" Buffy frowned. "Never mind."

The two stood in awkward silence for a moment. "Did he ever….bite you?" the blonde asked with a grimace.

Faith made a face. "That's disgusting, B. Gross. You actually think I'd let Angel bite me?" She shuddered, her curvaceous form slightly gyrating.

Buffy looked down at her stylish-but-affordable knee-high boots. "So I'm the only one…" she trailed off.

The raven-haired slayer chuckled lowly. "Yup, Blondie. You popped my vampire cherry."

_Suggested Listening: "Arma-goddamn-motherfuckin-geddon" _– _Marilyn Manson_

The two slayers swaggered out of the bathroom and sauntered toward the bar. After her brief pep talk with Faith, the blonde woman felt more confident. Now when the lingering eyes of some vampire swept over her leather-bound form, she rewarded them with a steely glare. If she let herself think about it, it felt almost like when she was a cheerleader back at Hemery High. Before vampires and slaying ever entered her vocabulary, she had looked down through her nose at scum like this before.

A short, wiry vampire intercepted the two women. His hair was red and spiked in a messy faux-hawk. You could tell that he hadn't been the kind of human who tanned easily, but perpetually sunburned instead. The undead man gave the two women a sly grin. He cocked his head toward the sparse dance floor where mixed vamp-couples slowly grinded on each other. "Wanna dance?" he leered, not directing the question at any of the two slayers specifically.

Buffy placed the flat of her palm on the man's scrawny chest. "Back off, Twiggy," she sniffed. She looked the man up and down and showed her distaste. "We're not tourists."

The Boston girl touched the blonde's elbow as they stalked past the dejected vampire. "Nice job, B," she murmured for only the elder slayer to hear. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd been an icy bitch before," she winked.

Faith and Buffy slid up next to Vivien at the bar. The soulless woman passed a pint of thick red liquid to the undead slayer and flashed her a brilliant, toothy smile. "I got you A positive – I remembered it's your favorite," she purred.

Buffy gave the brunette vampire a fake grin and raised her glass in mock salute before taking a deep sip. She was thankful for the snack, even if it came from Vivien. Her hunger had started to become distracting and she really didn't want to feed off of Faith anymore – as delicious as she tasted. Not only did it mildly creep her out to drink from a human, period, but the slayer's blood was like a dangerous aphrodisiac. Feeding from the beautiful Boston woman threatened Buffy's fragile self-control.

Vivien looked thoughtfully at Faith as Buffy busied herself with emptying the contents of the pint glass down her throat. "I would have gotten something for you too, but I don't think they have anything here for your kind," the vampire sneered.

The Boston girl shrugged and drummed her fingers on the bar top. "S'ok," she shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not all that thirsty."

Vivien licked her full lips and glanced toward the blonde. Buffy set the empty pint glass on the bar top and wiped at her top lip. "I'm curious to know what's so special about this human," the undead brunette stated questioningly. Her teeth slipped out of her mouth. "Does she taste as sweet as she smells?"

"Don't!" Buffy yelled out, garnering the attention of half the bar's patrons. The blonde slayer coughed quietly when the dark-haired vampire looked at her with wild eyes. "Um…she's mine."

Vivien looked mildly impressed and took a step away from the Boston woman. Her teeth retracted. "Oh really? It's as serious as that, is it?"

The Californian averted her eyes. "Yeah, she's mine. So just leave her alone."

Vivien looked between the two slayers. "Well, let me know if you change your mind," she drawled. "Cause she's absolutely _divine._"

Faith couldn't help the small smile that curled onto her lips. She felt a flush of pride and lust when Buffy called her _mine_, even though she knew it was just for her own safety.

"So Viv," the brunette slayer began, remembering why they had agreed to shadow the vampire in the first place. "How did you and Buffy meet?" she asked. "I never did hear that story." Faith slid her arm around the lithe slayer's thin waist possessively and pulled her close so their hips bumped against each other. Buffy flashed the taller woman a warning look, but the Boston girl merely grinned innocently in return.

Vivien set down her pint glass and smiled mischievously. She licked the blood away from the corners of her mouth. "Well of course she wouldn't have told you _that _story," she mused. "It's not for the faint of heart," she sniffed.

Faith leaned forward. "Try me," she grinned manically.

"We met at some feeder bar," Vivien began. "I walked in on this one feasting on a sorority girl in the bathroom." The vampire knocked her elbow against the startled blonde conspiratorially. The undead brunette smiled proudly. "You should have seen her, Faithy," she breathed in admiration. "I thought I'd walked in on Lucifer himself."

Vivien's eyes looked glassy as she recalled meeting the blonde for the first time. "Blood poured down that bimbo's neck, staining the front of her white t-shirt. Her right hand was mangled beyond recognition. It was breathtaking, really. Buffy had the woman on her knees on the bathroom floor," she continued. Vivien appeared to become more excited the further she dove into the story. "Her leather pants were undone and this hapless co-ed was licking away at her pussy even though she'd just been fed on. I'd never seen thrall that powerful before."

Vivien paused for effect, and swept her eyes over the Boston girl's face to gauge her reaction, but the beautiful brunette stared back, unflinching. If anything, the brown-haired woman had pulled the Californian even tighter against her body.

"When I walked in," the dark vampire continued, "Buffy was kind enough to let me have a turn, and then we drained that pathetic girl. The whole scene was so utterly erotic, that we fucked like satanic rabbits on the bloody bathroom floor afterwards," she crudely revealed.

If it was possible, Buffy's skin paled even more from Vivien's admission. Had she actually…done all of that? She had killed another innocent in such a degrading and inhumane manner? She had sex with _another _vampire? And this time it was a _woman_? And why did vampire doppelgangers always turn out to be so gay?

The Boston girl bravely held onto the smaller woman when she felt Buffy's body falter. Faith tore her eyes away from the shaking slayer to glare at the cruel vampire. This was getting a little too personal; she had wanted to help Buffy remember what had happened the previous three months, but now all the Boston girl wanted to do was _protect _the smaller slayer from what had happened.

"You know…I heard all about you," Vivien revealed to the Boston girl. The vampire smirked, as if laughing at a private joke. "I never expected you'd be a fang-banger though – thought you woulda been one of us."

Faith's eyebrows went to her hairline. "Fang-banger?"

Vivien ignored the unasked question. "This girl certainly likes her kinks, doesn't she?" she purred. The vampire trailed a manicured fingernail down Buffy's bare arm, making the blonde slayer shudder. "But I'm sure I don't have to tell _you _that," she winked lasciviously.

Vivien clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "Sex with this human," she wondered aloud. She sighed wistfully. "What I wouldn't give to be a fly on _that _wall."

The Boston girl felt slightly unnerved, although her stoical face belied her unsettled emotions. She knew the soulless version of Buffy had killed humans, but she had never imagined the level of cruelty and perversion. And although Buffy had had sex with her in her soulless state, she had somehow held out the hope that she had been Buffy's only female experience.

"I'm tired of all this talking," the undead brunette whined. She grabbed onto the slayers' hands. "Let's dance."

Buffy's face snapped into its demonic visage. "Keep your hands off of her," she snarled. She shoved Vivien a few steps backwards. "I said she's _mine._"

"Oh yeah?" came a challenging voice from a corner of the bar. A thick woman standing by the jukebox straightened herself and stared menacingly at the blonde slayer. "I've been watching you three all night and I don't like what I've seen. If she's supposedly _your _human, then where's your mark?" The bar became eerily quiet.

Buffy lowered her voice menacingly. "Not all scars are visible to the eyes," she growled.

A slow chant germinated from a hidden corner of the demon bar: "Bite her."

The mantra became louder and louder, and eventually became punctuated with vampire fists crashing down solidly on tables. Pint glasses full of thick blood rattled on the wooden tables as the undead bar crowd worked themselves into a frenzy.

"Bite her. Bite her! Bite her!"

Vivien took a menacing step toward the two slayers. "Yeah, Buff. I wanna see you feed off of her. If she's _your _human, after all," she cooed, "it shouldn't be a big deal."

Buffy looked helplessly at the younger slayer. Faith raised a carefully manicured eyebrow at her sister-Slayer. They could possibly take on all of these vampires to avoid the blonde biting her again, but it would be suicide. Wordlessly, Faith brushed her long, flowing locks away from her neck and tilted her head to the side. She stared hard at the California slayer, challenging her to do what needed to be done.

The chanting echoed hollowly in Buffy's ears as she slowly crept closer to the Boston girl. She stared at the flawless neck and then flicked her eyes back up to Faith's face. The dark-haired girl grimaced, but her breathing sounded heavier to the blonde slayer's sensitive hearing.

Buffy gently wrapped her arms around the brunette's thin waist and pulled her closer. Faith arched her back slightly and the blonde stifled a groan when their cores unintentionally bumped together. The slayer-vampire trailed her fingers down the smooth skin and paused to feel the rapid pulse beating under her icy touch.

"Just do it already, B," the Boston girl groaned quietly.

When Buffy sank her teeth into the porcelain skin, the sound of demonic cheering rushed into her ears, but it was soon drowned out by the rhythmic thudding of Faith's heart. The slayer-vampire closed her eyes and drank deeply, tightening her hold around the younger woman's curves. Even though she had just downed a pint of blood from the bar, there was always room for slayer blood.

The vampire deep inside her coaxed Buffy to continue drinking – to drain the Slayer until her heartbeat fluttered to a stop. Every basic instinct commanded the small slayer to kill the woman in her arms. But Buffy Summers – not the demon – won out, and the blonde disengaged her toothy-lock on the taller woman.

Somehow, despite the chaotic frenzy churning around them, Buffy was able to maintain control of her demonic urges. The Chosen One had previous experience denying her most primal urges. As a slayer, everyday had been a testament to that. It seemed, however, that around the Boston woman, the golden-haired slayer had a history of letting her animal desires win out.

"Are you okay?" the Californian whispered softly. Buffy nuzzled her nose into the younger slayer's neck and licked at the twin wounds.

Faith reached down and squeezed the thin arms that continued to circle her waist. "Five-by-five," she panted.

Vivien's eyes had turned a sickly yellow color. She flicked her pink tongue across her bottom lip. "Fuck that was hot, kids," she murmured. "How about we go someplace else and continue this?"

Faith held her hand around her neck, keeping pressure on the wound. She knew she would stop bleeding in moments, but didn't need the vampires in the bar knowing she was a slayer. "Yeah," she grunted. "I still feel like partying."

Vivien rushed out into the night air and exploded into manic laughter. "I can't believe you went all possessive like that, Buffy," she giggled. "It was _so _cute. Maybe I'll have to get a human of my own, too." She turned to look at the two slayers who had followed her out of the club and into the abandoned alley.

Faith lowered her hand from her neck. The wound had closed up already. She gave her sister-Slayer a knowing smile. "So what do ya think, B?" she considered aloud. "Think that's all this bitch knows?"

Buffy looked thoughtful and cocked her head to the side. "I think that's all the information we're gonna get from her."

The vampire backed up a few steps and her eyes went wide with worry. "What the hell are you two yappin' about?"

The two slayers continued to close the distance between themselves and the soulless demon.

"You want this one? Or can I have her?" Faith asked, licking her lips.

"She's all yours, Fai," the blonde vampire purred. "I just wanna watch."

The Boston woman pulled the wooden weapon from the waistband of her dark pants. The vampire's eyes widened with recognition. "You're-you're a Slayer, too," she sputtered.

Faith smiled widely and held the stake up. "Ding! Ding! Ding!" she mocked. "And the lady wins a prize."

"But in your case," the blonde vampire called out from the darkness, "you've won a ticket straight back to Hell."

The stake flew through the air and pierced the doomed creature's unbeating heart. The brunette vampire clutched at the wooden dagger just before she exploded into a cloud of gritty dust. The weapon fell to the paved alleyway, clattering against the solid ground.

Faith walked over to the dust pile and retrieved the stake. She slipped the weapon back into the waistline of her leather pants. The Boston girl sauntered over to the elder slayer who sat atop a wooden crate. The dark-haired woman reached out and brushed away an errant lock of blonde hair that had found its way onto the Californian's unlined forehead.

Faith's eyes flashed wildly in the dimly lit alley. "The sun's gonna be up soon," she breathed. "So your hotel or mine?"

Buffy looked momentarily startled, unsure if the Boston girl had a hidden agenda. "Your apartment is closer."

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Suggested Listening: Dave Matthew's Band – "Lying in the Hands of God"

Faith drew the heavy drapes closed so the undead slayer wouldn't have to worry about sunlight while she slept during the daylight hours. After quickly disposing of Vivien in the back alley of the random demon bar, the two slayers had returned to the Boston woman's apartment to avoid the sunrise. Now the two remained awkwardly in the bedroom of the dark-haired girl's modest home.

"What does it feel like when I…yuh know…bite you?"

The raven-haired slayer turned back towards the blonde. Her face looked flushed in reaction to the undead woman's seemingly innocuous question.

"What does it _feel _like?" the Boston girl repeated the question.

Buffy nodded from her seated position on the bedroom's double mattress. Her feet dangled off the edge of the bed and swung her bare feet back and forth. She had taken off her high-heeled boots and leggings at the door. "Uh-huh. I mean…does it hurt very badly?"

Faith opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the elder girl.

"Cause I've only been bitten once…" Buffy started, "well twice, if you count Dracula, but that was totally a thrall thing and so I totally didn't even really feel it, so I think it shouldn't really count. But when Angel bit me, he was like my boyfriend at the time, and I was attracted to him, so I didn't hurt as much as I guess another vampire biting me would. In fact it was kind of a turn on, which is kinda freaky if you think about it – a vampire slayer being turned on by getting bit by a vampire. But then again I was _dating _a vampire, so that in itself is kind of bizarro. And wow, I can babble for a long time without stopping now that I don't need to breathe any air. Feel free to stop me whenever." The vampire took an unnecessary deep breath.

Faith blinked a few times and stared open mouthed at her sister-Slayer. "Holy shit, B," she remarked. "That's gotta be like some World Record or something."

The blonde looked embarrassed by her outburst, but was determined to know the answer.

The Boston girl sat down next to the smaller woman on the bed. She intertwined the fingers of one hand with the other slayer's feminine digits. Although the two had been little more than coworkers when the Californian's heart still beat, it now felt uncannily natural to touch the small slayer in such a familiar way. When Buffy didn't pull away, but instead leaned in, the dark-haired girl felt encouraged.

"Well, it hurts," Faith admitted. "At first that is." Absentmindedly, the Boston girl touched her fingertips to the still tender marks near her clavicle. The bleeding had quickly stopped where Buffy had bitten her in the vampire bar. She imagined the skin was bruised, however, as it felt a little sore. "There's like this sharp prick in the beginning," she continued. "And then, I guess when your teeth are goin' in, there's this burning pressure. Like something's forcing itself in where it doesn't belong."

Seeing the guilt beginning to cloud the blonde's eyes, Faith squeezed Buffy's knee. "But that's over pretty fast," she assured the undead slayer. Her lips twisted into a wry smile, and her fingertips fluttered over the Californian's smooth skin. "And then, when you feed, my entire body feels alive. It's like," she paused, trying to align her feelings with the adjacent words, " maybe you feel the most alive just before you're going to die."

"Well, _that's_ reassuring," Buffy deadpanned.

Faith scowled. "Shit, I don't know how to describe it, B." She turned to look more fully at the golden-haired woman. "What's it like for _you_?"

Buffy tensed and pursed her lips. She slipped her hand out of Faith's hold and placed both her palms on her bare knees.

Faith smirked. "Not that easy, is it?"

The Californian flashed her eyes at the cocky slayer. "I could tell you," she protested. "But it's embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?" Faith repeated. She wiped her hands on her jeans. Her palms had become sweaty and clammy holding the vampire's hand. "What's so embarrassing?"

"Cause…you know…"

"No, I don't, B," the dark-haired girl smiled, leaning subtly closer.

"You know what Slayer blood does to vampires," the Chosen One mumbled, casting her eyes to the ground.

Faith smiled smugly. Watching the undead girl become so flustered brought back early memories of Sunnydale – before everything had gone to Hell.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what it's like?" the dark slayer urged thickly.

"I feel…human," Buffy started slowly. "I feel so numb all the time because – hello…dead….But when I'm feeding, it's like I'm human again. But it's borrowed."

The vampire shook her head, her eyes looking glassy as she recalled how drinking from the dangerous brunette made her feel. "The anticipation is intoxicating. You just smell _so _good. And your skin," she winced," is soft and warm and alive. And even though I know you're strong, you still feel fragile and vulnerable in the moments before I bite you."

Buffy released a shaky breath. "And when I finally taste you…the blood – your blood – is warm and thick and a little spicy. Drinking from you is liquid adrenaline. It's pure rage. It's ancient and primal…and it's lust. If slaying makes you hungry and horny, feeding from a Slayer is…" she trailed off, unwilling to allow herself to say the words.

The Californian blinked once hard as if pulling herself out of a trance. She turned to look again at the woman seated beside her. Faith's chocolate eyes appeared dark and dilated. Her breathing sounded ragged as if she had just run a great distance.

For the first time since waking up in Los Angeles, the undead woman felt afraid.

"Faith," Buffy whispered cautiously as she watched the Boston girl leaned in until their lips were less than a breath's width away.

The raven-haired beauty reached up and slid her fingertips through the elder slayer's tousled locks. Her breath felt warm on the Californian's face like a soothing ocean breeze on a humid summer day. "Buffy," she murmured in return.

"I-I don't know if I can," the vampire sighed, leaning into the younger slayer's delicate touch.

"Why not, B?" the Boston girl breathed. She brushed her full lips against the elder slayer's quivering mouth.

"I don't know…if I can stay in control," the smaller woman murmured.

The tip of Faith's pink tongue darted out from between her parted lips and flicked along the blonde's bottom lip. "I trust you."

Buffy whimpered and her eyes fluttered shut when she felt the deliciously soft pressure against her mouth. Faith's hands traveled up the elder woman's porcelain neck. Her fingers dove into the blonde curls at the nape of the vampire's neck and her fingertips gently massaged into Buffy's scalp. Tentatively, the Californian deepened the kiss, and smiled when she felt and heard the younger woman moan into her open mouth.

Faith's mouth danced along the vampire's lips. Buffy eagerly returned the kiss, stroking her tongue along the Boston girl's own. The elder slayer had never kissed a girl before, unless you counted innocent experimentation at sleepovers. She silently pondered if all women were this good at kissing, or if the dark-haired girl was just specifically talented.

Faith released her tight grip on the slayer-vampire's golden hair. Her hands traveled down to the leather bodice that squeezed the blonde's modest breasts together. The Boston girl's nimble fingers made quick work of the laces that had fasted the dark purple halter tight across the smaller woman's upper torso. The brunette slayer hastily ripped the top away, causing Buffy's naked breasts to spill out.

The vampire gasped when the morning chill attacked her sensitive nipples. Faith's warm hands cupped the palm-sized globes and purred at the sensation of Buffy's hardened nubs digging into her palms. She gently squeezed the naked flesh, pulling a guttural moan from the smaller slayer. Buffy arched her back slightly, pushing her chest more fully into the Boston girl's expert grip.

Faith dipped her head to wrap her lips around a hardened nipple. The vampire hissed at the sensation – the Boston girl's warm mouth felt like a luxurious bubble bath. The brunette paused long enough to allow the elder slayer to pull her top over her head before reattaching herself to the blonde's upturned breasts. She had seen this naked body before…she had done many of these things before to this same body….but never with Buffy Summers. The dark slayer took her time, knowing that this might be her last.

The brunette moaned into the soft swell of Buffy's breasts when she felt the blonde girl boldly remove her bra. The Boston girl's tits swung freely, no longer confined by lace and underwire. The vampire's chilly fingers traveled to Faith's naked breasts and clamped and twisted on her hardening nipples. The slayer-vampire rolled the jumbled buds between her fingers, applying the smallest amount of pressure on the sensitive flesh as if she instinctively knew what the dark slayer liked.

Keeping her mouth rotating from one rose-colored nipple to the other, the Boston girl slightly rose from the bed. Her free hands went to the clasp of her tight denim pants, and she shimmied the clothing and her barely-there thong down her curves and onto the floor.

Buffy pulled away from the younger woman, her breasts slipping from the brunette's candy mouth with a noisy plop. She took a moment to run her eyes along the expanse of the Boston slayer's impressive naked form. Her breasts were significantly larger than her own, but without a hint of sagging. Her thin, tapered waist narrowed and gently flowed out to meet the natural curve of her womanly hips.

The Californian's hands went to the side snap of her leather skirt and she lifted her backside off of the bed to remove the offending clothing. Faith's hands reached for the blonde's and stopped her before she could slide her lace panties down her slender thighs.

The brunette looked hard into the golden slayer's hazel-green eyes. "Let me," she husked deeply.

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip and silently nodded. Her eyes immediately left the brunette's achingly beautiful face and flicked down to her hands. The slender, feminine hands hooked under the slight waistband of the delicate underwear. The blonde slayer once again lifted her backside from the bed to allow the Boston woman to slide the barely-there garment off her lower body.

Taking her time, and enjoying the painful reveal, Faith slowly inched the lace material down Buffy's hipbones, gliding the panties down the soft swell of her lower stomach, and lower still to reveal her hairless mons. The Boston woman groaned quietly, her eyes never straying from the view. The lace panties shimmied down lower, giving away to the slightly protruding clit and pouting pussy lips.

Faith screwed her eyes shut when she felt the bruising pressure on her parted lips. She fell backwards on the squishy bed when she felt a strong hand press firmly on her breastplate. The Boston girl looked up, half stunned, to suddenly find the slayer-vampire. naked and crawling on top of her.

Buffy rested on top of the younger slayer, her delicious hipbones jutting out from the soft swell of her feminine belly. Faith trailed her fingertips along the blonde woman's bare abdominal muscles, mesmerized as the hard flesh flexed under her touch. The dark slayer reached up for the elder woman's head and gently entwined her fingers through the blonde's long, golden locks. Pulling the Californian's head down, she guided Buffy's mouth to her aching left nipple. The Chosen One tentatively latched her mouth on the tender bud, lashing the tip of her pink tongue against the erogenous skin.

"Buffy, oh God. Buffy," Faith panted through pursed lips. Her skin felt warm and sticky despite the cool marble flesh of her lover.

The Boston woman attached her hands to the blonde's naked backside. The soft globes fit perfectly in the palms of the younger woman's hands. She kneaded and caressed the soft, pliable flesh with her fingers as Buffy continued to suck and bite at her breasts.

Encouraged by the groans filling her ears, Buffy ground her naked sex into the dangerously beautiful woman beneath her. Faith's body tensed in pleasure when the slayers' clits brushed intimately against each other. "Fuck," the dark-haired woman moaned, thrusting up into the elder woman's core. "Right there, B."

Buffy pushed forward again, her most intimate parts gliding along the soft, wet folds of the younger slayer. The vampire bit her bottom lip hard, stifling a loud moan. The two women rocked against each other, naked flesh rubbing and pressing in just the right spots.

The slayer-vampire moaned loudly when the woman beneath her deftly slid two fingers inside her pussy just as she was grinding downwards. "Faith!" she called out into the room. The dark-haired slayer's digits spread her cunt, and her clit rubbed against the pad of Faith's thumb.

Obeying her instincts, the blonde slightly raised her hips off of the painfully sexy woman writing beneath her and slid herself further down the Boston girl's fingers as she lowered her pelvic bone back down towards the mattress.

Faith groaned and slammed her free hand on the bed sheets beneath her. "Fuck, she moaned loudly. "That's so fucking hot. God, Buffy," she cried as the elder slayer began a steady rhythm above her. "Your pussy is perfect."

The air was filled with the sounds of Buffy's wet sex and the sexiest groans and mewls that Faith had ever heard. Buffy bounced up and down on the Boston girl's hand. Her small breasts undulated with every crescendo, and her tight pussy clamped Faith's fingers like a vise.

The Californian dropped her head to her naked chest and closed her eyes. Her hands sought out something to hold, something to keep her grounded to this plane of existence. Her palms slid along the Boston woman's taunt stomach, up to her fleshy breasts and she squeezed hard.

Faith continued to jar her fingers upward, meeting the downward thrust of the slayer hovering above. The Boston girl ran the calloused pad of her thumb across the Californian's protruding clit, and Buffy jerked her body as a flood of pleasure ran from her clit to her nipples.

"Uhn," the blonde panted. "Faith, I'm so close," she breathed.

The dark-haired slayer rubbed harder, pressing and manipulating the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her rigid fingers continued to jut in and out of the undead woman's liquid core. Buffy's arousal coated her digits, pooling in the cracks between her fingers. An unneeded breath caught in the blonde girl's throat, and the strangled cries of her climax filled Faith's ears.

Recovering from her own, unexpected orgasm, the undead woman slid two fingers solidly into the Boston woman's flooded pussy. Faith cried out into the darkness of the room as she felt the small slayer fill her like no one had ever before. It was as if Buffy had not only entered her eager sex, but also her damaged soul.

The Boston girl slid her fingers out of Buffy's spent sex and allowed the elder slayer to return the favor. The Chosen One's face was scrunched together in concentration as she seesawed her fingers in and out of the dangerous brunette's pussy. Her beautiful features were entirely focused on pleasuring the woman straddled between her thighs.

Buffy slid her fingers out of Faith's cunt and trailed her wet digits along the young slayer's hairless crevice. Her sticky fingertips bumped against the Boston woman's tightest entrance. The brunette clawed at the bed sheets and felt her pussy become impossibly wetter. The Boston woman gasped loudly when the blonde slowly slid a single digit up her ass to the first knuckle.

The blonde thrust her tense digits in and out of the younger slayer's most intimate holes. She slid two fingers hard into her cunt and one into her ass. Faith's breathing became more and more erratic and labored with every penetration. Her hips and pelvic bone rose and fell in time with the Californian's efforts.

Faith twisted her fingers around silky strands of gold. "Fuck, Buffy," she moaned, her voice sounding pained and thick with emotion. She squeezed her eyes shut, twin tears slipping out and rolling down her face.

"Bite me," came the whispered command. "Please, bite me."

The blonde didn't hesitate this time, but instead did what felt natural to her. Her elongated canines slipped out of her mouth like a knife being unsheathed. Faith pulled her lover's mouth down to her well-defined clavicle and felt herself pushed over the edge when the sharp teeth scissored through her delicate flesh. The Californian's body tensed and she bit down harder, coaxing the life-giving fluid to flow from her mate.

Faith's muscles tightened around Buffy's unrelenting penetration. She dug her heels and fingers into the vampire's marble flesh and screamed out into the room as a second, stronger, orgasm pushed her towards insanity.

Feeling the body beneath her relaxing from exhaustion and sexual satisfaction, the slayer-vampire slid her canines out of the younger woman's skin. Her tongue immediately bathed the open wound, both capturing escaping rivers of blood and tending to the bite mark.

"Was that okay?" the Californian whispered, not looking up at the younger slayer's face. Faith wrapped her strong arms around the smaller woman and squeezed her with reassurance.

Buffy curled into her lover's arms and sighed contentedly. She pressed her nose and pursed lips against Faith's fragrant skin and breathed in deeply. Not only was her blood lust sated, but her lust-lust had been expertly taken care of by the dark-haired slayer as well.

"Buff?" the young woman called out in the darkness.

"Mmhmm?" the vampire purred, nuzzling deeper into the warm body wrapped around her like a human blanket.

Faith stared at the ceiling for a moment, considering if she wanted to have this conversation: "Things aren't gonna get weird now, are they?"

Buffy opened her eyes, realizing that the Boston girl wasn't going to let her enjoy her post-orgasmic cuddling until they'd talked to death about what just happened between them.

"What do you mean…weird?" the blonde asked, although she knew the answer.

"Like, when we wake up are you gonna get all pissed off at me and re-lodge that stick up your holier-than-Thou ass?" The Boston woman's voice had suddenly become bitter.

Buffy lifted herself up on her elbow in bed and recognized the confusion and betrayal swimming on the surface of Faith's eyes. "You're afraid, aren't you?" the blonde asked, the surprise thick in her own voice.

The brunette grumpily crossed her arms over her naked breasts, causing the bare flesh to squeeze together. "Afraid?" she snorted, staring at the ceiling rather than her bedmate. "What would I be afraid of?"

Buffy paused and placed a cool hand on the curvaceous woman's hipbone. "A lot of things, I think."

Faith gave the blonde woman an amused smile. "Oh yeah, Princess? Like what for instance?"

"I think you're afraid of letting yourself feel again," the blonde announced. "I might be the dead one, but in some ways I'm more alive than you are." Buffy chewed on her bottom lip, unsure if she should continue. "And…you're afraid I'm gonna go back to Sunnydale and forget about you."

Tears began rolling down the Boston girl's olive-tinted cheeks. She turned away from the Californian so Buffy couldn't see her anguish. "Yeah right," she choked out, curling her body into the fetal position. "You've got some kinda ego on you, B."

"Faith," Buffy called out softly. She curved her small form around the backside of the Boston woman's larger frame. "Faith," she repeated the name. The Californian pushed the dark hair that trickled down the brunette woman's neck over her shoulder. As delicate as a butterfly's wing, she placed small kisses at the base of Faith's neck.

Faith's body shuddered as a strangled sob escaped her lips. She held her breath to keep other unwelcomed noises from parting her mouth, but it only caused her huddled body to shake.

Buffy pressed her chilly lips against the nape of the younger woman's neck. "Shhhh…" she soothed into the fragrant skin. She draped her right arm around the taller slayer's waist and stroked her fingertips along the gentle swell of Faith's lower stomach. The Californian's hand dipped further beneath the bunched up comforter and slid between the brunette's slightly parted thighs. Faith slightly tensed when she felt her sister-Slayer's fingers expertly brush against her swollen clit.

"W-what are you doing, B?" she asked in a raspy voice. Faith spread her legs further apart and melted into the vampire's tender touch.

"Everything happens for a reason, Fai," Buffy whispered into the other woman's ear. "You'll see."

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

The Boston slayer walked through the front door of the former hotel complex. She briefly scanned the dimly illuminated lobby for signs of life before heading towards the office area.

As much as she didn't want to leave the blonde vampire's side, she knew that Angel would be worrying about her if she didn't stop by. Pulling herself away from the soundly sleeping woman had been one of the hardest things Faith had ever had to do in her young life, yet she knew she would find no peace until Angel and the others knew she was doing fine. Part of her was still angry with the ancient vampire for banishing Buffy from the Hyperion. But it had also allowed the two slayers the time and space to come together.

"Helloooo?" Faith called out, her low voice echoing in the open space.

"Faith," Angel noted, stepping out of the shadows. "It's good to see you're still alive." The broad-shouldered demon walked out of the back room. In his hands was an ancient-looking text.

The Boston girl made a face at her sometime employer. "Of course I'm alive," she retorted.

"How are things?" the man asked quietly. He looked down at his hands, rather than the brash girl standing in front of him.

"You mean, how's Buffy," the dark-haired woman tossed back.

Angel looked up from the text and smiled warmly at the young slayer. "That too," he murmured. "Do you still think it's her?"

Faith nodded her head. "There's no way it's anyone _but _her, Angel. I don't know what was going on with Red's mojo, but the girl you guys tossed outta here is definitely Buffy Summers."

Angel sighed deeply and raked his fingers through his tousled hair. "I thought something might be wrong with Willow's magic as well," he admitted. "But I couldn't keep Buffy here on the off-chance that her soul really hadn't been returned. I couldn't put you all in danger like that."

"And yet you couldn't take the chance of killing her on the off-chance that it really was her," the brunette slayer challenged.

The vampire nodded somberly, easily agreeing with the Boston girl's pointed accusation. "You can't blame me for still loving her, can you?"

Faith felt her face flush. "No, I guess not," she mumbled uncomfortably. "So where's Red now?" the Boston girl asked, quickly changing the subject. Although bedding the elder slayer had always been a dream, now standing before her ex-lover, she felt mildly guilty. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked sour. "Causing more problems? Killing more of her friends?"

Angel frowned deeply at the scarred girl. He could tell that Willow's betrayal had injured the young slayer. The two had never gotten along with one another, and this latest insult wasn't helping their cause. "She went back to Sunnydale," he sighed. "Well, more like I _insisted _she go back," he corrected himself. "She wasn't doing any good here…she just kept pacing around the Hyperion yelling about how we were useless and that we were letting a murderer roam the streets. But she knew she couldn't go after Buffy without my consent."

"So she's back watching Dawn now?" Faith asked, suddenly remembering the blonde girl's younger sister.

Angel shook his head. "I don't know, honestly. I'll make some calls though and find out how things are over there." He set his lips in a straight line. "But regardless, _she_ should be getting home soon."

Faith lowered her eyes, knowing to whom the vampire was referring. "I know I can't keep her."

"If that's really Buffy, she has someplace else to be, Faith. And it's not in Los Angeles." The vampire paused meaningfully. "And I don't think you should follow her to Sunnydale."

"What?" the dark-haired girl flashed her eyes up to meet the paternal gaze of the ageless man.

"I don't think it's healthy for you to get involved with Buffy," the undead demon warned. "There's no future for you together. She's dead, Faith. And you've still got so much to live for."

The Boston girl clenched her jaw. "Oh, I see how it is," she spat bitterly. "Now that you know it's really her, you just want her for yourself."

The soulled vampire held up his hands. "Woah, slow down there. I never said –,"

"You already told me you still love her, Angel, so you can't deny that. And now that she's a Vampire with a Soul," Faith ranted, her voice becoming more and more agitated, "you can be together again. It's like you've finally paid for your sins, so the Fates are giving you this gigantic present."

"It's not like that at all, Faith…I just mean that…" Angel trailed off as he allowed himself to really look at the Boston girl. "It's a little warm for scarves, don't you think?"

The Boston girl narrowed her eyes and touched her fingers at the uncharacteristic accessory wrapped around her neck. "Lay off me. It's a fashion statement," she growled.

"Uh huh," the ancient man nodded, unconvinced. He jerked his hand out and grabbed an end of the scarf. The winter accessory fell off of the Boston girl's shoulders and neck, revealing a pair of angry yellow and purple bruises outlining vicious-looking vampire bites.

Angel's dark eyes went wide. "Good Lord, Faith," he gasped. "What has she done to you?"

The dark-haired slayer snatched the scarf out of the soulled vampire's hands. "She didn't _do _anything, Angel," she sneered. "At least nothing I didn't want to happen." She haphazardly tossed the woolly accessory around her bare neck again and leered at the undead man.

"You're letting your feelings for Buffy cloud your vision, Faith," the brooding vampire warned with emotion. "You can't keep letting her feed off of you."

"Stay out of this, Angel," she seethed, turning on her heels to storm away. "I won't warn you again."

The dark-haired slayer's bad mood was instantly lifted when she entered her apartment. Although Angel's concern and words of warning echoed in her ears, all was forgotten when the Boston woman opened the front door and saw the blonde slayer waiting for her return.

The Californian stood in the small kitchenette, leaning against the formica countertop. In her hands was an oversized coffee cup, no doubt filled with blood she had found in the brunette's freezer. Since she didn't have any clothes at Faith's apartment besides her outfit from the previous night, she had borrowed one of the younger slayer's Boston Red Sox hoodies, paired with short flannel boxers. The sweatshirt was oversized on Faith and even more so on the smaller blonde.

Buffy held up a small piece of paper when she saw Faith enter the apartment. The dark-haired girl had hastily scribbled a note to let her know where she had gone in the morning. "Leaving love notes on my pillow?" she lightly joked.

Faith grinned and set the paper bag she had been holding in her arms down on the floor. "Didn't want ya to think I'd bailed."

The blonde vampire smirked. "I did worry about that when I woke up alone, so thanks for it. Although your handwriting is horrible." She stood up a little higher on her tiptoes. "Groceries?"

The brunette picked up the bag again and brought it to the refrigerator. "Stopped by a butcher buddy of mine and got ya some pigs blood," she explained as she put the plastic containers of red liquid in the fridge. "Sorry it's not the real stuff, but the blood bank's not open on Sundays."

Buffy stuck her bottom lip out. "I could have gone out with you, ya know. You didn't have to go and leave a note in your place."

Faith coughed anxiously. "I had to stop by Angel's, too," she revealed.

The blonde slayer's lip popped back into her mouth. "Oh." Her hazel-green eyes dropped to the floor.

"But everything's okay, B," the dark-haired girl insisted. "I just needed to drop by and let him know I'm still alive. He might have been a jerk for kickin' ya out, but I at least owed him that." Faith shrugged uncomfortably. "He was there for me when no one else was, ya know?"

The Californian nodded in understanding. "So did you tell him I'm not evil?"

Faith cocked an eyebrow at the blonde. "Wait. You're _not _evil?" she stated in mock surprise. "I thought I would have lifted some gypsy curse last night."

Buffy snorted and took another sip from her coffee mug. "Oh, you think you're _that _good, huh Slayer? Gave me a 'total moment of happiness'?" The small blonde smiled mischievously at the other slayer over her ceramic cup.

"Oh, last night didn't do it for ya, huh Blondie?" the raven-haired woman laughed. "Well, I'm ready to go again," Faith boasted as she quickly unsnapped the front button of her tight black jeans. The Boston girl playfully grabbed for the elder slayer.

"Faith!" the vampire chastised. "You're gonna make me spill blood all over your clothes."

Faith pulled the smaller woman close and ran her warm palms up the front of Buffy's thick cotton top. The elder woman wore nothing beneath the hoodie and Faith quietly groaned when her hands met the naked flesh of her sister-Slayer. The Boston woman deftly palmed the smaller woman's modest breasts in her hands.

"That would be a pity," Faith murmured quietly. She nuzzled her nose and breathed heavily into Buffy's ear. "Cause then I'd haveta get you outta those clothes."

Buffy swallowed hard, feeling butterflies attacking her insides. Being this close to the Boston woman had always made her a little weak in the knees, but now that she knew exactly what the talented girl was capable of, her legs turned into jello.

"W-What do you want to do tonight?" the blonde panted. She cocked her head to the side, allowing the taller woman better access to her neck. Faith suckled and nuzzled at the bare skin there. "Do you want to do s'more detective-ing?"

"Was thinking we might take the day off," the younger slayer purred into the Californian's pale skin. She brushed the tip of her nose against the vampire's neck. "I mean, it's not like you're gettin' any older."

"Cute," the blonde chuckled. She took a step backwards, away from the smoldering Bostonian and set her half-filled glass of blood on the kitchen countertop. "So if we're not gonna work, what do you suggest we do instead?" she asked.

Faith watched in wonder as Buffy hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her shorts and slowly slid the material down her smooth thighs. The blonde cocked an eyebrow at her slaying partner and stepped out of the pajama bottoms. The sweatshirt was long enough to cover Buffy's most intimate parts, but that didn't stop the wetness from flooding Faith's underwear.

Faith pursed her thick lips and wet her bottom lip with a flick of her tongue. "I think you're a mind-reader, B," she growled, her voice low and husky.

The blonde girl stalked closer, narrowing the distance between herself and the taller woman. Faith stepped backwards, instinctively on guard. Her backside bumped against the kitchen counter and she looked behind her, suddenly aware that she had nowhere to go.

A small smile fluttered onto Buffy's lips. "Feeling trapped?" she smirked.

Faith swallowed hard and gave the elder slayer a tight grin. "Just surprised, is all."

Buffy trailed her fingers along the v-neck of the taller woman's grey t-shirt and toyed with the material of the scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. Her small breasts pressed into the younger woman's chest. She looked up into the dark slayer's eyes and noticed how they shifted from side to side. "Surprised that I was still here when you got back?"

Faith nodded, her eyes never leaving the vampire's angelic face.

Buffy bit her bottom lip and looked mildly embarrassed. "Surprised that I'm wearing practically nothing right now?"

"Uh-huh," the dark-haired girl rasped thickly, allowing her eyes to sweep down the length of Buffy's naked legs.

"Surprised that I want to make love again?"

The Boston girl released an involuntary groan at Buffy's words and grabbed onto the blonde's naked backside. She pulled the smaller slayer in, crushing their bodies together and placed a heated kiss on the vampire's parted mouth. With uncanny strength, the undead woman grabbed outside of the taller girl's thighs and lifted her onto the kitchen countertop.

Faith gave the small woman a surprised look from her perched position on the counter. "You've been holding back," the brunette murmured.

Buffy returned the shocked expression with a shy smile. "I didn't want to scare you."

Faith leaned into the blonde girl and placed a fluttering kiss against her red lips. Using her heels and feet, she pulled the vampire closer to her. Buffy reached for the waistline of the younger slayer's jeans. The top button was still unfastened, and she slowly pulled down the zipper, still keeping her mouth on the taller woman's expertly moving lips.

The Boston girl lifted her backside and eagerly helped the small slayer pull her black jeans down her hips and thighs. The vampire tugged at the legs, but frowned when the material wouldn't budge any further. "Shoes, Buffy," Faith chuckled, pointing to the black boots that kept her pants stuck to her legs.

The undead slayer laughed. "Sorry," she bumbled. "Guess I'm not that experienced taking off another girl's clothes."

Faith pulled off her boots and gave the smaller woman a sly wink. "Well if I'm lucky," she purred, "you'll get lots of practice with me."

When the curvaceous Boston woman finally ridded herself of her tight pants, Buffy took a hesitant step back toward her. Although seducing the brunette woman was one thing, actually carrying out on the action was uncharted territory. Faith gave her an encouraging smile and slightly spread her muscled thighs wider apart.

"You don't have to, you know," the dark-haired slayer murmured.

Buffy swallowed hard and nodded. "I know…but I want to," she stated quietly.

Faith leaned backwards, putting all her weight on her palms. She held her breath as the Chosen One wordlessly narrowed the distance between them. Buffy slightly bent at the waist and leaned in toward the Boston girl's panty-covered pussy. Only a thin barrier of black lace remained between her mouth and the younger woman's rapidly accumulating arousal.

"Oh!" the blonde gasped suddenly, pulling her head away from Faith's parted thighs. "You had sex with a vampire!"

"What?"

"There's…there's _scars_…." the Californian fumed.

"Oh shit," the dark-haired girl muttered. She mentally slapped herself in the forehead. "The only vampire I've ever had sex with is _you_, Buffy," Faith insisted, sitting up straighter on the kitchen counter. "I promise."

Buffy's eyes narrowed briefly. "Then how did –," The blonde's eyes went wide with recognition. "Oh my God," she quietly muttered. Buffy pushed herself away from the Boston girl and glared hard at her. "You had sex with the demon," she accused.

"Buffy, I –,"

"It wasn't _me, _Faith. You didn't have sex with _me," _Buffy exploded_. _"It's just like when Riley…" the blonde trailed off. Tears automatically sprung to her eyes. "How could you do that to me? How could you violate my body like that?" she exclaimed, her small form shaking with emotion. "Do you hate me that much?"

Faith stood up abruptly, jumping down from the countertop, and tried to look as dignified as she could half-naked. "_Hate you_?" she called out in disbelief. "Do you hear yourself? I could never hate you, Buffy," she revealed. "I did it because I love you so Goddamn much."

The Boston girl tensed momentarily, self-censuring herself for saying the words aloud. "I thought you were dead," she tried in vain. "I thought you were gone forever. And—and it hurt_ so much _to think I'd never see you again." Faith shook her head and closed her eyes. "I know it was wrong," she rasped. "And I suffered the consequences." The dark slayer opened her chocolate eyes. "I knew she wasn't you, but I just needed to pretend. I only wanted to be with you."

Buffy stood still and blinked a few times. "You love me?"

Faith gave the elder woman a lop-sided grin. "Wow, you really _are _a blonde."

"I-I can't do this right now." Buffy hastily grabbed at her clothes and wiped at her face with the back of her hands. "I have to go, I'm sorry."

The brunette clasped onto the smaller woman's elbow as she moved to leave. "Buffy, please," she implored, her eyes dripping with sorrow. "Don't run."

"I'm not running," the blonde cried. "I just…I just need some space. Please, Faith," the soulled vampire breathed. "Just let me go."

Faith dropped the elder woman's arm and hung her head. "Can you promise you'll call me or something if you decide to leave town?"

Buffy took one last furtive look around the small apartment, making sure she hadn't left anything behind. "I can't promise you anything."

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Buffy slammed the door of her hotel room closed and cursed loudly. It was all she could do to express herself, now that her tear ducks had unrelentingly emptied themselves during the cab ride back to her hotel room. Luckily Los Angeles taxis accepted credit cards, or she would have had to hitchhike back to West Hollywood. Not wanting to risk getting in a car accident and explaining to the police why she had someone else's wallet, the blonde vampire had left the Hummer outside of Faith's apartment complex.

She cursed herself for never taking the time to properly learn how to drive. Slayers were supposed to be born with natural instincts and grace, so why was driving a car so hard? The blonde shook her head bitterly as she stalked into the hotel suite. Even though she had known all-too-well that Slayers came with an expiration date, she had put off so many things.

The slayer-vampire felt discombobulated as she quickly stripped out of Faith's oversized sweatshirt and the short flannel pants and walked into the oversized master bathroom. The taxi ride from Faith's apartment had felt like a Walk of Shame. Even her taxi driver had given her a sympathetic look, telling the grieving woman, "Forget about him. No guy's worth all those tears."

The vampire turned on the shower to a scalding temperature. She just wanted to scrub at her naked flesh and erase everything that had happened in the past few days. But she knew that no amount of body wash would ever make her feel all right. She was dead. And there was a murderous demon living inside her.

The water cascaded down her naked form like a monsoon's rain shower. Buffy closed her eyes and dunked her head under the heavy flow of steaming water, feeling the warmth blanket her naturally room-temperature body. The vampire placed one palm against the tiled wall and rested her weight against it. She knew the marbled wall should feel cool against her hand, and instantly missed the temperature contrast. It was small things like this that constantly reminded her that she was no longer human.

With her other hand, Buffy pushed her wet, matted hair out of her face and sighed deeply.

Leaving the Boston girl so abruptly had left her unsatisfied in more ways than she had expected. She worried her bottom lip as her left hand instinctively traveled down the front of her lithe form until her fingertips rested at the apex of her aching sex. Her urges were so raw, so at the surface now. In life, Buffy had prided herself on self-control, on self-denial, especially when it came to sexual cravings. But now, just one fluttering touch against her throbbing clit had her yearning for more.

Buffy slipped her thin digits through her pussy lips, groaning lowly when she felt her wetness already on the pads of her fingers. Although she was wet from the shower, she could distinctively tell the difference between her own arousal accumulating between her thighs and the rush of water beating down from the large showerhead above.

The Californian wondered, with a slight mental blush, if the dark-haired slayer had touched her body this intimately back when they had switched bodies. Buffy hadn't been afforded time to really appreciate being inside Faith's body, although she doubted she would have had the nerve for self-exploration. The blonde momentarily panicked, trying to remember if she had shaved her legs in the days before the body switch. It would be just her luck to have gotten lazy with self-grooming and for Faith to believe she was some kind of unkempt, hairy monster. Buffy grumbled to herself. _Why do I care if my legs were hairy or not? It would serve Faith right to get stuck with that._

As Buffy's hands traveled up to her hardening nipples, she reflected on the fact that the two had never quite talked about what had happened during the body switch. All she knew was what Riley and Willow had told her. She doubted the Boston girl even knew that the Council's henchmen had captured her and how close she had come to being dragged away to England.

Buffy tried to enjoy the jolts of pleasure that rocketed through her body when she roughly squeezed and pulled at her nipples, but thinking about the body switch only reminded her that once again someone else had taken her body for a joy ride. At least the first time it had been Faith; this time, however, it was an evil demon. Who knew how many innocent people she had killed in those few months? But more importantly for the slayer, who knew how many people she had _fucked _in those few months?

The more Buffy thought about her current situation, the more angry and frustrated she became. She brought one hand back down to her naked pussy and flicked at her hardened clit. The blonde slightly widened her stance, spreading her legs apart. She sawed her middle finger back and forth along the right side of her clit, her single digit slicing through her swollen lips. Her cunt felt wet, raw, and angry – just like the rest of her body – but her release was far from close.

The vampire grunted in frustration. "Who do I have to blow to get an orgasm around here?" she called out to the Heavens. Her desperate voice reverberated against the tiled walls of the bathroom. "Why can I _never _get a break?"

Resigned that the Fates were against her and any subsequent climax, the blonde vampire angrily turned off the shower faucet. She stepped out of the tub and onto the bathmat and roughly scrubbed at her skin with an oversized towel before wrapping the material around her svelte form.

The undead woman stalked back towards the master bedroom and threw open the door of the walk-in closet. She growled, finding only leather clothes clinging to the various hangers in the wardrobe. Apparently her doppelganger had Faith's fashion sense and found no need for cotton.

Buffy tensed when her mind fluttered inadvertently to the Boston girl once again. This was becoming an unsettling pattern.

Abandoning all hope of merely finding an outfit, the Californian pulled on a white terrycloth robe and stomped into the main section of her suite. Buffy turned on the television and threw herself down on the overstuffed couch in the sunken living room. Finding nothing off interest, however, she growled and turned off the LCD screen, throwing the remote across the room in frustration.

She needed to get out of this hotel room. It was filled with too many reminders that someone else had been using her body for the past few months. She needed to leave this place.

She needed to talk to the one person who could understand what she was going through.

"Angel?" the blonde called out in the seemingly empty lobby. She tried to peer her head into the open door, but an invisible barrier kept her outside. Apparently the soulled vampire hadn't been bluffing about reinstating his no-Buffy in the Hyperion policy. The sound of dress shoes clicking on wooden floors caused the slayer's eyes to drift toward a shadowed corner of the spacious main floor.

"Buffy," Angel stated flatly, stepping out of the darkness. "I didn't expect to see you here." The tall vampire walked toward the threshold.

"Well, I, uh, didn't really know who else to talk to about this." Buffy paused and tried to look behind the broad-shouldered man. "Can I come in, or is this not a good time?"

"I've got all the time in the world," the undead man stated as he moved to the side. "Please," he motioned with his hands, "come in."

Buffy walked through the threshold of the Hyperion and nervously rubbed her palms along her arms. She still wore Faith's sweatshirt, but had changed into the one pair of non-leather pants she had found among her new slut-fest vampire wardrobe.

"So what's up?" her ex-boyfriend asked nonchalantly.

"Let's just cut to the chase," the slayer stated bluntly. "You know it's me, right?" she asked, turning around to look at the man. "I mean…you know that I've got my soul back?"

Angel nodded somberly. "Yes. And I'm sorry I kicked you out before, Buffy. I just needed to be sure it was really you."

The Chosen One chewed on her bottom lip. "Yeah, I get it," she sighed. "The other Buffy was pretty…umm…unstable." The slayer-vampire looked up at her ex-boyfriend. "I need your help, Angel. I'm back, and I'm not entirely sure why," she continued. "I mean, if Willow didn't return my soul, then why am I back instead of still floating around with wings and a halo?"

The soulled vampire looked with interest at his ex-lover. "You were in Heaven?"

Buffy nodded glumly. "For the second time, actually," she revealed, "but it appears that I'm not destined to ever just…stay dead."

"And you need my help with…" the undead man trailed off, not entirely sure in what direction Buffy's brain was headed.

"Finding out _why and how,_" Buffy clarified. "And you seemed like the obvious choice for help with this. I mean, it's not like I know any other vampires with souls."

Angel looked thoughtful momentarily. "If I help you," the brooding man began, his eyes looking darker than usual, "I want you to leave Faith out of this. I want you to leave her alone."

"Faith?" the blonde grunted sourly. "Oh, don't even get me started on _her._"

The ancient vampire stood a little taller and set his jaw. "I'm serious about this, Buffy. I forbid you from seeing her again."

"You _forbid _me from seeing her?" the blonde snorted in disbelief.

"You almost _killed _her, Buffy."

"I so did not," the blonde protested. "I mean, I might have fed off of her a few times," she shrugged, glad she was no longer able to blush. (Being dead had _some _advantages it seemed, including hiding her visible embarrassment). "But certainly not enough to –,"

"Not you," Angel interrupted. "The other Buffy. The one without a soul."

"Well I'm not her," the small Californian pointed out, "so you don't have anything to worry about. Besides, it appears that Faith had quite a bit of fun with _that _Buffy."

"Do you love her?" Angel challenged.

The small vampire looked momentarily stunned by the unexpected question. "What?"

"It's a simple question," the Los Angeles vampire frowned. "Do you love Faith?"

"I-I…it's _not _a simple question at all," Buffy retorted.

"I'm not here to judge if you do love her," the ancient demon noted. "God knows how long she's pined over you," he added wistfully. "But I'm not going to stand idle while you ruin all the progress she's made these past few years."

"Ruin?"

"I know you, Buffy. I know how you work," the vampire boomed, surprised at the anger quickly bubbling inside him. "You come here, to _my city_, and create a path of destruction wherever you go. You may not mean to do it," he added as an aside, "but it happens. And Faith ends up the worse for it."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at her ex-boyfriend, but contained her mounting rage. She knew she was significantly stronger than the ancient demon, but she didn't want to resort to violence. They could be adults about this, she tried to assure herself. "Why are you so concerned about Faith?" she demanded. "Maybe I should be asking if _you _love her, instead of you asking me such ridiculous questions."

"This is a mistake," Angel stated coolly. "I can't help you," he muttered. "We can't function together, you and me. I'm sorry, but there's too much water under the bridge."

"Tell me, Angel!" the newly soulled vampire exasperated, not willing to let the matter drop so easily. "What's going on between you and Faith?"

"There's nothing going on," Angel insisted with a sneer. "Ask yourself this, Buffy. Are you really upset because you think Faith is involved with me, or because you believe I'm involved with Faith?"

"You make no sense, Angel," the Californian huffed, stubbornly crossing her arms across her chest.

"Are you jealous of Faith being close to me because you and I used to be together?" the ageless man tried to clarify. "Or are you jealous because I'm the one who helped Faith when she lost her way? Does it hurt you to know that I'm the one person in this messed up world that she trusts?"

Buffy's mouth dropped open, horrified by her ex-lover's accusations. "Never mind, Angel," she stormed. "You're talking crazy person talk. I'll figure this Soul crap out on my own."

Buffy stood in front of the closed door and sighed miserably to herself. She hated apologies. She hated admitting when she was wrong. But she hated apologizing to _her_ even more.

She didn't even know if the other Slayer would still be around. Maybe she had visitors, the blonde silently worried. Maybe as soon as she'd left, Faith had gone out and found herself another bedmate. Maybe Buffy had blow it yet again.

After a few more silent moments of self-torment and doubt, the Californian finally knocked on the door. The wooden entrance swung open immediately as if Faith had been expecting the vampire's return. The younger slayer stared wordlessly at her visitor.

"Can I come in?"

"Never uninvited you," the Boston girl grunted as she stared at the ageless blonde. Faith leaned against the door jam and cast her eyes up and down Buffy's body. Her gaze was cool and unemotional.

"Yeah," Buffy sighed, feeling anxious outside in the hallway. She suddenly felt self-conscious under the steely glare of her sister-Slayer. "but I was really mean before. I wanted to be polite and not just barge in."

Faith pushed herself off of the doorframe and moved to the side. "Mi casa es su casa."

The vampire hastily entered the room and quickly scanned the small space to detect if the younger slayer had any visitors. The air smelled like cigarette smoke, as if the Boston woman had been chain smoking in Buffy's absence. But beyond the olfactory assault, the space remained the same as when she had left.

The Chosen One could no longer hold her tongue: "Why didn't you tell me I almost killed you?"

Faith slowly closed the door with a solid click and replaced the safety chain. "Wouldn't have been the first time you tried to off me, Blondie," she muttered with her back still turned away from the new vampire. "Didn't think it was a big deal."

Buffy narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why do you do that?"

The Boston girl lazily turned to face the elder slayer. "Do what?"

"You shut down," Buffy complained. "You give me these glimpses of emotions, and then the next second it's like a giant door gets slammed shut in my face."

Faith's lips pursed together like she'd just eaten something sour. "Well excuse me for just wantin' to be careful, Princess. I mean, fuck, B," the taller slayer snarled, showing her teeth. "I tell you I love you, and how do you respond?"

The vampire hung her head sheepishly. "I ran away," she whispered lowly.

"Yeah," the brunette snapped. "So sue me if I'm not all puppy dogs and sunshine when you finally show up at my door again."

"I'm sorry," the vampire apologized lamely.

"What do you want, B?" Faith sighed. She raked her fingers through her brunette locks. "Why are you here?"

"I overreacted before," the blonde sighed. "I freaked out on you, and that was unfair."

"Yeah, well…maybe you were right to spazz out like that," the Boston girl muttered. "I shoulda told you before…I just…I mean…I didn't know how to…"

"…How to tell me that my evil vampire-twin tried to suck you dry while she ate you out?" the blonde finished for her sister-Slayer. She placed her hands on her hips and flashed the dark slayer a cocky grin.

Faith's eyes bulged. "Uh, yeah. I-I guess that's one way of puttin' it."

The two slayers shared a childish grin. Maybe they both needed to profess more apologies, but neither woman was overly eager to do so. And they definitely needed to talk more about this L-word stuff.

"So…" Faith hesitated. She looked around her apartment and then back over at the blonde. "Now what?"

"Well," Buffy smiled, "we were interrupted before I had the chance to –,"

"Do more detective work?" Faith guessed, interrupting the blonde slayer.

"No." Buffy shook her head. "Lick your pussy until your eyes roll back into your head."

"Damn, B," Faith swore, shaking her head in amazement. Hearing the Californian say the p-word made her all kinds of horny. "You've got a mouth on you today."

The Californian felt the tug at the corners of her lips. "You haven't really given me the chance to show you yet."

The taller slayer winced as if in pain. "You _do _realize what talkin' like that is doin' to me, right?"

Buffy licked her lips briefly and a smile curled onto her mouth. "I'm just trying to figure out why you're still so far away."

Without another word, the dark slayer quickly crossed the living room. Her long legs made short work of the modest space, and she took the smaller woman in her arms. "Is this better?" she breathed in the vampire's ear. Her voice came out low and husky.

Buffy had wanted to seduce the taller girl, but now found herself a little unsteady on her own feet. She was thankful that Faith's arms were wrapped so tightly around her waist, not only for the delicious proximity it afforded her, but because she feared she might otherwise topple over.

Faith gave her lover a quick squeeze. "Not plannin' on runnin' out on me any time soon, I hope?" she murmured. "Cause you can't just talk like that and get away with it."

The Californian pulled away slightly to look at the young slayer's beautiful face. "Did you really mean what you said?"

The dark-haired slayer knit her eyebrows together. "About what?"

"That you…" Buffy hesitated. "That you love me."

Faith swallowed hard. Okay, so maybe they _were _having this conversation now. "I…I just…"

The vampire pursed her lips together. "Do you want to take it back?"

"No!" the brunette insisted. "I…I don't…I mean, I kept it to myself for so long 'cause well, we were kinda hatin' on each other for a while there, and then I was incarcerated and you were dead, and then I got out but was wicked afraid to see you again, but I still had all these fuckin' _feelings _knockin' around, but I wasn't just gotta call you up in SunnyD and be like 'Yo, B. I'm a free woman and guess what, I kinda dig you more than just as a friend, so how's about we forget all the bullshit we've put each other through and just pop each other's corks instead?'"

Buffy silenced the Boston slayer's uncharacteristic rambling by pressing her lips against the other woman's moving mouth. Faith's eyes instinctively closed as she gladly welcomed the distraction. The taller woman tightened her hold on the slayer's tapered waist, marveling at how naturally their bodies molded together.

Faith flicked the tip of her talented tongue across the blonde's bottom lip and ran it along the front of Buffy's perfect teeth. The vampire parted her mouth more, inviting the dark-haired beauty inside. While keeping gentle pressure on the shorter woman's mouth, the rogue slayer traced along the tips of her lover's straight tip with her tongue. She paused when she felt the elongated canines.

Buffy looked at the younger woman, her beautiful face confused, when Faith pulled slightly back. "What's wrong?" the Californian asked, unaware that her teeth had changed shape.

The Boston girl smiled, unafraid. "Do your teeth just _do _that?"

Buffy ran her own tongue along the tips of her teeth and made a face when she realized what had happened. She smiled coyly and batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated manner. "Is it my fault they pop out when I get turned on?"

Faith chuckled huskily. She leaned in and captured the blonde's earlobe between her teeth and gently nipped at the skin. "What else happens to that body of yours when you get horny?" she taunted playfully.

Buffy gripped her hands on the Boston girl's biceps and sharply sucked in an unneeded breath. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" she challenged.

The brunette smiled broadly. She found this kind of banter to be the most delicious foreplay – the light teasing, the knowing words. It was almost as stimulating as the fact that Buffy's hands had traveled down to cup her pert ass.

Faith looked around the untidy living room while still holding tight to the vampire. "So, uh, you wanna do this here? I mean, we could always use the couch over there, but I wouldn't trust the carpet. I don't exactly own a vacuum."

The vampire snickered. "Wow, Fai. You really _do _know how to make me wet. All this pillow talk's really sweeping me off my feet."

Before the smaller woman could spout anymore sass, however, her feet were _literally_ swept off of the floor as the Boston girl picked her up. Faith cradled the blonde in her arms. "You keep bein' a smart-ass, B," the brunette playfully warned, "and I'll drop you on your ass."

The soulled vampire kicked her feet back and forth like a child throwing a tantrum. "Put me down," she whined. "I hate being little and this just reminds me that I am."

The Boston girl casually carried the impetuous blonde back towards her bedroom, ignoring her pleas. She placed a chaste kiss at the tip of Buffy's nose. "Isn't there some saying about good things in small packages?" Faith grinned.

Buffy snorted. "I bet you've seen your share of small packages."

Faith unceremoniously dumped the smaller woman onto the unmade bed. Buffy made an angry sound and rearranged her body so her weight rested on her elbows, propping herself up slightly. "This just keeps getting more and more romantic," the blonde deadpanned. "I don't know why the girls aren't breaking down your door."

The dark-haired slayer shrugged as she looked down at the reclining woman. "Not really the romantic type, B." Her hands went to the hem of her t-shirt and she pulled the piece of clothing off, tossing it towards a giant pile of laundry in one corner of the room. She stood before the elder woman, naked from the waist up. Faith leered at her lover. "But my tits make up for it all."

Buffy swallowed hard and nodded as if in a trance. Her breasts really _were _magnificent. The Californian indulged herself, her hazel-green eyes freely roaming over Faith's slightly olive-tined skin. The Boston girl had no visible tan lines. Her soft breasts stood at attention, capped with dusky colored nipples.

The blonde slayer sat up more fully and crawled to the foot of the bed so that her eyes were at Faith's breast level. She couldn't help herself, and her eyes strayed lower, honing in on the tiny line of raised skin that seemed to bisect the younger woman's abdomen. Buffy stroked her fingertips down the faint scar. "It's still there," she murmured.

Faith ran a few strands of Buffy's golden hair through her fingers. "It's okay, B," she rasped. "It's like wherever I go, I always take a little piece of you with me."

The Chosen One sighed and shook her head sadly. She pressed the side of her face against Faith's stomach and listened to the steady throbbing of her heart. "How did we get here?" she wondered aloud.

The Boston woman gave her lover a lopsided grin. "We always hurt the ones we love."

Suggested Listening: Britney Spears – "Ooh Ooh Baby"

Buffy pulled herself up and kneeled at the end of the double mattress, so she was at eye-level with the brunette. Her small hands went to the waistband of Faith's jeans, and she tugged at the front, causing the younger slayer's body to lurch into her. Buffy placed a smoldering kiss on the dark-haired woman's mouth. Her hands made quick work of the front snap and zipper of Faith's pants and she and Faith worked together to tug the tight denim down her hips, thighs, and calves.

Faith melted into Buffy's eager kiss. She pressed her lips solidly and passionately against the blonde's mouth. The Boston girl crawled onto the bed, gently pushing the elder slayer onto her back, never letting her mouth stray from her lover.

"I think you're a little overdressed, B," she breathed as she hastily tugged at the blonde's baseball hoodie. The two stopped kissing just long enough for Faith to pull the offending garment over Buffy's head and it was quickly discarded onto the floor. The Boston girl popped open the front button of Buffy's pants and roughly yanked at the zipper, nearly causing the Californian's jeans to split. Buffy raised her ass off of the mattress, helping the taller slayer rid her off her pants.

The two slayers clung to each other, their naked torsos and limbs brushing and rubbing together. Faith crushed her mouth harder into her blonde lover's, feeling her body temperature rise. Their teeth gashed together and she tweaked the vampire's hardened nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. The brunette pulled and pinched the sensitive buds, producing delicious moans and mewls from the smaller woman beneath her.

Faith's hands rushed down to the Californian's flimsy panties and she yanked on the material, causing the underwear to shred and tear. The Boston girl shoved a single digit inside the vampire's seeping pussy.

"Faith!" Buffy moaned loudly, surprised to be enjoying this more primal aspect of her partner. Her manicured nails dug into the Boston girl's upper arms.

"Buffy," the younger slayer panted, finally pulling her mouth away for oxygen. "I need to taste you," she begged as she continued to finger fuck the blonde vampire. "I need to taste your pussy."

The Californian's slender hips thrust upward with each bruising penetration. She wanted her talented lover to fill her up completely, but she also wanted to feel her tongue on her clit. Releasing her stranglehold on Faith's arms, Buffy placed the flat of her palm on the top of the Boston girl's head and pushed down.

The dark slayer grinned as her vampire lover pulled her face into her naked pussy. Faith continued her single-finger-assault, but quickly captured the Chosen One's clit between her lips. Buffy hissed and tightened her hold on Faith's ears when she first felt the Boston girl's oral attentions. She thrust her hips toward the ceiling again.

"Oh God, Faith!" she cried out loudly. Faith could feel her lover's sex clenching tightly around her finger. Buffy must have really been worked up, because she knew it wouldn't be long before she exploded.

Faith moaned when she felt another contraction. The vampire's wet cunt was strangling the circulation from her finger. "Buffy," she groaned, thrusting hard into her lover's core. "You feel so fucking good. Your pussy is so fucking tight."

Buffy moaned and arched her back, thrusting her naked breasts toward the sky. "I'm so fucking close, Faith," she exclaimed. "Please," she begged. "I need to cum. I need your mouth."

Not needing to be asked twice, the Boston girl re-attached her mouth to the elder woman's clit. She sucked the little bud into her mouth and flicked her tongue against the fleshy nub. Buffy's body tensed suddenly and she hollered out her orgasm. The dark-haired slayer only slowed the steady thrust of her finger when she felt her lover's undead body finally relax.

Faith pulled her sticky finger out of the golden slayer's cunt and brought the digit to her lips. She quietly moaned and sucked the juices off of her hand. Even though her lover was still coming down from her climax, the Boston girl needed to taste more straight from its liquid source. The brunette buried her face between the vampire's slightly splayed thighs and slowly licked her way up and down Buffy's shaved outer lips.

Buffy looked down to the apex of her sex with surprise flooding her eyes. "Again?" she croaked, her voice slightly raw. "So soon?"

The raven-haired beauty hummed her approval into Buffy's drenched cunt.

"Faith," Buffy panted, slightly thrusting her pelvic bone upwards to meet her lover's mouth. "I-I want a turn too," she weakly protested.

The Boston girl remained wordless, and only clamped her hands tight against the blonde's upper thighs, forcing her legs to part wider, and she continued to lick up and down the Californian's oozing slit. Buffy's eyes rolled back when the rogue slayer's tongue finally penetrated her tight entrance. The undead woman marveled that anyone's tongue could be that thick and fill her so well.

"Faith," she tried again, squirming under the Boston girl's unrelenting attentions. "I really want to…to eat you out," she pleaded.

The brunette raised her face from Buffy's thighs. Her face was covered in the elder woman's arousal. "I know something we could do that'll make us both happy, B," she grinned, licking noisily at her kiss-swollen lips.

"Please," Buffy whimpered. "Don't make me wait any longer."

The Boston woman hopped up from the bed and shimmied out of her own boi short underwear, rendering her completely nude. The reclined slayer moaned lowly when she was finally awarded the view. Faith crawled back onto the bed and lay next to her lover. The Californian raised an eyebrow at the younger woman, awaiting further instructions. Faith placed a gentle kiss on Buffy's mouth. The Californian licked at her lips when the dark-haired girl pulled away, tasting herself on her sister-Slayer's mouth.

"Sit on my face, Buffy," the formerly rogue slayer commanded.

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but the Boston girl cut her off. "If you want the goodies, you need to do what I say. Cause there ain't no way I'm gonna stop suckin' on that sweet pussy of yours."

The vampire hesitated momentarily, but finally pulled herself up to a seated position. Faith looked up at her lover from her reclined position on the bed and gave Buffy a cocky grin and a wink. "Whatcha waitin' for, B? Get on my face."

Slowly, the Californian inched her way toward the younger slayer. She crawled up her experienced lover's body and positioned herself so her pussy hovered above Faith's mouth. Just as she began to lower herself down, Faith stopped her. "Not that way, B," the dark-haired beauty interjected. "Turn around. We're gonna sixty-nine."

The undead slayer obediently followed her lover's instructions and positioned herself above Faith's head, but facing in the right direction this time. Her body tensed slightly when she felt the Boston girl's hands clamp down on her thighs. "Relax, baby," the brunette woman purred. "This is gonna fuckin' blow your mind."

The Californian lowered herself down and shuddered when she felt her lover's tongue slide back into her hole. Faith continued to fuck her with her tongue, but before Buffy could lose herself to the talented ministrations of the woman whose face she currently straddled, she felt Faith's hand snake up her naked back and gently push her forward.

Buffy felt momentarily uneasy with her ass so close to Faith's mouth, but she soon forgot her trepidations when the Boston girl rubbed her clit with the pad of her thumb.

Buffy fell forward slightly, her face now even closer to her lover's neglected sex. The blonde slayer stuck her tongue out and flicked the tip against Faith's clit. The woman beneath her tensed and her thighs twitched from the sudden sensation. Growing increasingly confident, the golden-haired slayer leaned down, further still. She placed her hands on either side of Faith's pussy and pulled her outer lips apart, fully exposing the Boston girl's clit. Using the tip of her tongue once again, the vampire licked circles around her lover's engorged clit.

Buffy buried two fingers inside her lover and gasped at the wetness and heat that now suddenly coated her digits. She thrust hard inside and curved her fingers back toward herself, intent to bump them against the brunette's G-spot. Faith pulled her face out of the Californian's pussy long enough to loudly moan her appreciation. "Fuck, B. Thatta a girl," she coaxed. She thrust her hipbones up to meet Buffy's hand. "Fuck me. Fuck my pussy hard."

The vampire closed her eyes and felt a fresh flood of arousal. If the woman beneath her didn't drown in her juices it would be a miracle. It felt like liquid sex was leaking down her thighs and into Faith's mouth.

The Californian stabbed her fingers back into Faith's cunt. It felt like the younger woman was on fire and burning Buffy's fingers. If the vampire was going to spontaneously combust into flames, however, she couldn't imagine a better scenario. Faith stuck her tongue back into her lover and her chin somehow bumped against Buffy's clit. Okay, so maybe it _did _get even better.

Buffy began a steady rhythm, simultaneously sucking on Faith's clit while slamming her fingers into her ready sex. She eagerly lapped up the excess arousal as though the younger woman's juices were enough to sustain her. With the blonde's efforts so highly concentrated, the Boston girl's concentration began to wan. She slid two fingers into Buffy's sex, however, hopeful to get the undead slayer off at least once more, even if it wasn't with her mouth.

"Oh God. Right there, B," Faith moaned when Buffy's fingers bumped against her insides in just the right spot. Licking Buffy's pussy was stimulating enough without having the girl in question fingering her own cunt and sucking on her aching clit. The blonde hastened her pace, encouraged by the way Faith's hips bucked.

"Fuck, Buffy!" the brunette screamed out again. "Your fingers. God…your fingers. Don't stop. Please don't stop. I'm so fucking close. I wanna cum for you."

Faith's head rocked from side to side and she screwed her eyes shut. Sweat poured from her body and soaked the cotton sheets on which she lay. Buffy's sex forgotten for the moment, she abandoned herself to her lover's rigorous attentions. When she felt Buffy gently bite her clit, the Boston girl's climax quickly crashed down on her, and she yelled out into the bedroom.

"Faith?"

The Boston girl rolled over in bed and stretched out her long limbs. Her body had that satisfying ache that comes with having just been fucked. "Mhhmm?" she purred.

The Californian chewed on her lower lip as she stared at her lover. "I have to go back," she announced. "Back to Sunnydale."

Faith stared at the cracked ceiling above and blinked a few times. "Oh."

"And…" The Californian paused meaningfully. "I want you to come back with me."

"Buffy?" The younger slayer turned on her side to stare at her lover.

Buffy propped herself up slightly on her pillow, to look more directly at the Boston slayer. "We could be a family, Faith," the blonde explained excitedly. "You, me, and Dawn."

"You're not just sayin' that cause I'm good in bed, are ya?" the brunette lightly teased. She poked the woman lying beside her. "Wantin' me to follow you to SunnyD so I can be at your beck-and-call to scratch that itch for ya?"

Buffy slapped her partner on the arm. "Stop it." The slayer-vampire looked slightly flustered. "But you _are _good at that…" She licked her lips and looked over the brunette's barely covered form with smoldering eyes. "But I'm serious about this, Faith," she continued, her voice a little lower. "I-I love you. And I want us to be a family." The blonde reached out and stroked her fingertips down Faith's bare arm. "You _are _my family."

"Are you for real, B?" the dark-haired girl croaked out in disbelief. "Cause if you're just playin' me, I don't think my heart could take much more disappointment in this life." Hot tears dripped down the Boston girl's face.

"No more games," the blonde insisted. Buffy kissed her slayer fully on the mouth. She could taste the saltiness of the younger woman's emotions. "I love you, Fai. Come live with me."

The Boston girl rolled over in bed, hoping to feel the elder slayer's form next to her own. She wasn't much of a cuddler, but then again, she'd never really had sex with anyone she truly loved. She snuggled into her warm pillowcase and breathed in deeply, smelling the delicate scent of Buffy's shampoo lingering on the cotton sheet.

Faith stretched out her legs, stiff from sleeping in the same position for too long, and ran her toes along the smooth, chilly calves of her bedmate. She lazily shifted her arms under the covers to brush her fingers against the motionless woman beside her. If she was lucky, she smiled to herself, maybe Buffy would be interested in Round Three.

Faith sat up in bed abruptly when she felt the warm, sticky liquid seep onto her fingertips. Even in the blanketed darkness of her bedroom, she sensed something was wrong. She brought her fingers to her lips and recognized the sharp iron tang of blood.

The overhead light in the master bathroom flicked on, dimly illuminating the modest bedroom. The sickly, pale light flooded over the grey Berber carpeting. At least three bodies lay discarded on the floor. A man in a suit and tie with his face twisted in terror, his arms and legs hanging at unnatural angles. A strawberry-blonde woman in her mid-twenties, her sun-golden strands matted to the side of her face; thick, dried blood caked on one side of her scalp. And a thin, middle-aged Asian man whose throat had been slit lay crumpled on the carpeting. His face was pale and his lips had turned a blue-ish hue. Dark blood soaked the flooring, creating crimson pools where the corpses rested.

The Boston girl looked next to her where the recently soulled vampire slept. Faith hesitantly reached across the bed, and rolled the pale feminine figure over on her back. The dark-haired slayer gasped aloud at what she saw. The woman was not the slayer-vampire, but another anonymous corpse. Blood still oozed from the deep wound on her neck, and her pale grey eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling above. Faith looked down at the bed sheets crumpled around her. The pale green cotton blankets were spattered with fresh blood.

Buffy stepped out of the bathroom, flossing her teeth. "Oh hey, baby," she casually chirped, stepping over the disfigured bodies towards the double bed. She dropped the used floss from her fingertips. Faith watched as it seemed to flutter in slow motion onto the floor, next to the corpse in business attire.

The blonde girl climbed up from the foot of the bed and smiled sweetly at the still-startled Bostonian. "I hope you don't mind," she purred. She leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on Faith's unresponsive lips. Buffy tasted like a cocktail of iron and mint. "I got hungry while you were sleeping, so I brought home a little snack.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Flashback

_The Californian's hazel-green eyes went wide when she recognized the twins. "Y-you," she stuttered, taken aback by the unexpected visitors._

"_We don't normally make house calls, vampire," the blue-veined male sniffed. "But for you, we had to make an exception."_

_The stony female took a step closer to the cowering demon. "You're messing everything up. Our Seers do not like what they have seen of the Future," she sternly noted. "And if Our Champion isn't prepared to kill you, We intend to stop you."_

"We don't have the power in this realm to dispose of you ourselves," the female Power continued. She passed her wavering hand through the undead slayer's arm. "As you can see, we're not corporeal in this dimension."

"But that doesn't mean We are without Power," her male twin interjected.

Buffy narrowed her eyes as the Powers. "What do you want from me?" she demanded. "I'm not one of your playthings anymore."

The woman sniffed at the demon. "Yes. And that is unfortunate. As annoying and stubborn as you've been these past few years, you were an effective Slayer."

"So now what you do is no longer of concern to us," her brother noted with contempt. "Except when it concerns the _other _Slayer."

The vampire's eyes went wide. "Faith? You're here because of her? What do you want with her?"

"The Slayer is meant for great things," the male continued. "There's a Battle coming in which she will play an imperative part."

The female marbled figure looked stern. "And she'll be unable to play her role if she's a _vampire._"

Buffy crossed her arms across her chest and smirked. "Oh, I see," she laughed darkly. "You're afraid I'm going to Turn her, and you wanna cut a deal. Well guess what?" she mocked. "Faith is mine. No amount of wheelin' is gonna change that."

"We do _not _'cut deals,' Vampire," the blue-veined woman called out, outraged by the very idea. The air seemed to shimmer around her. "Especially with one so insignificant as you."

"Insignificant?" the slayer-vampire raised a skeptical eyebrow. Although she knew she should be cowering before these powerful twins, she was too proud and stubborn to show her fear. "If I'm so _insignificant,_ then why all the big fuss?"

"Because the Slayer loves you," the female Power stated. "No," she paused, "she loves _Buffy Summers._ And she'll do anything to be with her. Your little tryst at her apartment proved that."

"And without hope," her brother continued, "without something to live for – we'll lose the Slayer."

Buffy looked back and forth between the two Powers, like watching a tennis match, as they revealed why they were confronting her in this abandoned alley.

"We cannot do anything to change Buffy Summers' death or transformation. Her time is up in this world," the woman stated unemotionally. "She has served her purpose."

"But we can do something," the male Power continued, "something_ temporary _to give our new Champion hope." He smiled to himself. "To give our new Champion the faith she needs to survive your temptations."

The Powers paused dramatically and shared a silent smile between themselves.

"Well?" the vampire demanded, throwing her arms in the air. "Tell me! What are you going to do?"

The female looked once more at the undead slayer. "Return your Soul."

+++++++++++++++ Present DaySuggested Listening: "Conspiracy" – ParamorePOV Faith

"W-What the _Hell, _Buffy?" I cry out, still unable to take in all the destruction that now inhabits my once corpse-less bedroom. Well, corpse-less if you don't count Buffy.

The blonde in question sticks out her bottom lip in that patented pout. "What?" she whines, uncharacteristically. "I was _hungry._ You can't expect me to just waste away, can you?"

"T-there's pigs blood in the fridge," I sputter out. "You knew that."

"Why settle for that when the real stuff is _so good_," she purrs, nuzzling my neck.

My body tenses when she touches me. What the fuck is going on here? When did Buffy decide to go all death and destruct-o girl on me? I thought she had more control than that. And what was that big speech about last night – about not hurting humans – if she was just going to do this a few hours later?

And then I feel it. Or more accurately…I _don't _feel it. I scramble out of bed as quickly as I can and stare at her in wonderment and fear.

"Y-you're not Buffy," I stutter nervously. My eyes shift around the room, looking for any kind of weapon.

She looks up at me from her reclined position on the bed. "I don't know why everyone always underestimates you," she smiles softly. Those familiar hazel-green eyes flutter at me. "You're a quick one, Faithy."

"W-What did you do with her?" I demand. The tears sting my eyes and blur my vision. I can't have lost her. Not now.

She sits up quietly, her face looking thoughtful and almost a little injured. "_I _didn't do anything, lover. I was just biding my time until I could come back." A half-smile wiggles onto her mouth. That same half-smile that Buffy would give me and make me feel like I was the most beautiful thing in the world. Now I just want to slap it off this vampire's face.

"Your Buffy is back up in Heaven where she belongs," she coos. "But you, my dear, are here with me."

Buffy – or rather the demon who now controls her beautiful body – stands up from the bed. She's wearing a sheer black nightgown that falls just above mid-thigh. I have no idea where she got it – it's certainly too girlie to be anything from my wardrobe. But on her, it's perfection. The spaghetti straps sag slightly on her shoulders, almost begging me to brush them down her soft skin. Her golden hair flows down her slender shoulders in thick, wavy curls. My eyes seem to be disobeying my brain, because she catches me sweeping over her delicious body. Looking at her makes me ache all over, but I shake my head like an Etch-a-Sketch, trying to erase all the naughty images that have unwillingly popped into my brain. I have to keep reminding myself that she's not Buffy.

"But why?" I ask, not sure that this vampire knows the answer. "Why was she here…and now she's not?"

The undead woman shrugs. "Couldn't tell you. The last time I was in control of this body I was jumping out the window of a teen shelter. By the way," she winks coyly. "You're one helluva kisser."

I feel the blood boiling inside my veins. Why does the world hate me so fucking much? Haven't I atoned for all the fucked up shit I did before? Shouldn't the Fates be smiling down on me or something? This has got to be the cruelest 180 in the history of the planet.

"Where is she?" I scream, taking a menacing step toward the demon. "Where's Buffy?"

"She's gone, Faith!" the soulless demon screams back. "And she's not coming back! Can't you see?" she grabs onto my arm and I try to shake her off, but her grip is too tight. "Your only chance for happiness is with me now. I told you before. Kill me or join me. There is no in between."

Her free hand goes to my neck and she squeezes slightly, making my eyes bulge out. I can feel the strength pulsing through her thin fingers. Her eyes look manic and raged. "I could kill you right now, Faithy. I have so much _power _surging through me," she rants. "You have no idea what being a Slayer _and _a Vampire is like. But I'm not going to kill you. I want you, Faith. I want you with me. We could be together," she whispers into my ear. "Forever."

I look deep into her liquid hazel eyes and find myself falling. It would be so easy to just let go…

Her lips are suddenly on mine, and she forces her tongue into my mouth. The taste of blood is still in her mouth and it makes me gag. I pull away and stare at her, horrified, but also a little turned on. It seems like I can't help myself around Buffy, dead or alive, soulless or not.

She gives me one last desperate look. "Think about it, Faith. Just think about it." Buffy looks fleetingly at the open bedroom window and I can tell she's already planning her escape. "You'll know where to find me when the time comes," she observes.

I can only stand, frozen in place, as she disappears out the open window. I know I should follow her rather than allow her to kill more innocent people, but my bare feet seem stuck to my bedroom carpeting. I rush over after a few moments and watch as the vampire quickly descends the rickety metal stairs in the back of the building and escapes into the night.

Everything seems to be happening so fast. Too fast. Last night with Buffy was…was _amazing. _And then I wake up and she's no longer with me? Maybe the past few days have been nothing but a dream.

I'm jarred back to reality when I hear someone pounding on my front door. "Is everything alright in there? I heard some yelling?" comes the male voice.

_Fuck_, _it's the Building Manager. _

I hastily pull on some worn jeans, a t-shirt, and grab my leather jacket before hopping out the back window myself. I'm not in any shape to follow Buffy, but no way am I gonna stick around here. Even if I wasn't an ex con, there's no way I'll be able explain how all these dead bodies ended up in my apartment.

When my feet hit the black pavement, it starts to rain. A sardonic grin finds its way to my lips. Of course it would start raining. The gravel bites into the bottoms of my bare feet. Leave it to me to run without grabbing shoes first.

I can hear police sirens screaming in the background, getting closer. No doubt the building Superintendent let himself into my apartment and found the remnants of Buffy's midnight snack. Those boys in blue sure are fast responders.

A crowd has started to assemble in front of the apartment complex as the police scream up in their cars and they barricade the area. At least people in Sunnydale always had the good sense to run the other way when disaster struck. These freaks in LA are wicked nosey, just itchin' to see a dead body or something. I pop the collar of my leather jacket and dip my head down low as I walk past a couple cops.

I turn down a deserted alley, looking for someplace to hide until the police leave the area. Garbage and boxes and crates are all around me, but I find a dry place to sit down on the back stoop of some red brick building. There's a slight overhang and it somewhat shields me from the light sprinkle that's suddenly turned into an all-out-downpour.

A scrawny black kitten hops out of the darkness and settles on the concrete slab beside me to find some shelter as well. It shakes its pathetic-looking body, small droplets of water flying in all directions. It looks pretty brave, for being on its own, and I reach out to pet it. The black fur is wet and sticks to my fingertips. The cat tenses slightly when I first touch it, but then I feel it's small body relax, and it starts to purr like a frickin' motor.

The kitten crawls up onto my lap and turns once before laying its body down. The wetness on my own face could be rain, but I'm pretty sure it's tears.

I'm shoeless. No wallet. No money. No weapons. Just the clothes on my back.

And as I look up at the pale moon, I realize now what I have to do.

Even if it kills me.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Suggested Listening: "Hometown Glory" – Adele

The brunette woman held her breath as she slowly crept up the back fire escape. She moved carefully so as to not cause the rickety metal stairs to shriek and groan with her slight weight. Her neighbors may have left her alone while she resided in the apartment complex, but with the previous night's adventures, she wasn't convinced her fellow apartment-dwellers would mind their own business.

Faith jarred the bedroom window open, thankful that the LAPD hadn't locked her safest entry. She crawled through the opening and her bare feet hit the carpeting with a muted thud. The Boston girl had spent many nights without a roof over her head, but since being released from prison, she had gotten used to the stability of her independent address. She had spent the previous night and subsequent day in the shadows, keeping close to the LA-based apartment on the off-chance that Buffy would return.

Her body tense and ready for flight if need be, the Boston slayer quickly scanned the dark bedroom. She stood still while her eyes adjusted to the limited light. A light post beyond her bedroom window cast its cool illumination into the space. The HVAC team had already begun to clean out her room. While her belongings were still mostly scattered around the rest of the apartment, the bedroom itself was practically empty. The blood-soaked mattress had been discarded so that now only the wooden bed frame remained. The carpet felt slightly damp on the soles of her naked feet, no doubt from being cleaned and steamed to remove the numerous blood stains.

Faith cursed quietly when she discovered that her bedroom closet was also empty. All of her clothing had been donated or thrown away. She explored the rest of the apartment with a grim face, but was relieved to find that her favorite Doc Martins still sat near the apartment's front door. Well at least now she had shoes.

The woman took a quick tour of her kitchen. She yanked open both the freezer and refrigerator doors. Empty. She swore again remembering that her icebox had been stocked with blood. That certainly wasn't going to look good for her. What kind of person kept quarts of pig's blood in their house?

Faith hastily rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. Although all the perishable food had been removed from the kitchen, her dry food pantry remained intact. The Boston girl ripped off the top of a cereal box and shoved a handful of dry Cheerios into her mouth. In addition to having a bed to sleep in, the brunette had gotten used to eating since her incarceration as well.

Faith sat down at her two-person kitchen table, continuing to eat Cheerios straight from the box, and thought about her options. There was no way she'd be able to convince the police, especially being an ex-convict, that she had not been culpable for these murders. She knew virtually no one in the building who could be a character witness. On the contrary, her neighbors had witnessed her dragging herself home at bizarre hours, clothes suspiciously blood stained and torn.

The Boston girl could see the newscast in her mind. _Oh yes, pretty girl…kept to herself…always covered in blood and bruises. Didn't think anything of it at the time. Just thought maybe she was a butcher or MMA fighter. Guess you can never tell what kind of people live next door._

Faith doubted Angel or any of his crew would have her back, either. Not after the shenanigans of the past week. She had, after all, chosen Buffy over all of them. And the way she had left things between her and Angel….

For all the good she had tried to do – for all the mistakes for which she had tried to amend ever since being released from prison – she had thrown everything away for the opportunity to be with Buffy.

Faith tossed another handful of cereal into her mouth and chewed.

"Honestly," the former beauty queen huffed. "What's wrong with those two? They think they can just barge in here whenever and insult you like that?"

"Cordie," the brooding vampire mumbled. "I don't need you to protect me from Buffy and Faith."

The brunette woman crossed her arms across her chest and looked sourly at her employer. "But it's just _rude_. I mean, I can see Buffy being a bitch, because she kind of puts the 'B' in Bitch. But Faith?" The former cheerleader shook her head. "After everything you've done for her?" She blew air out her parted lips. "Totally rude."

Angel closed the book he had been trying to read in his office. He now regretted telling Cordelia about his visits from both Faith and Buffy. Although the former Sunnydale resident had certainly matured and grown into her role as his connection to the Powers-that-Be, whenever old friends visited Los Angeles, she had a habit of reverting to her former 'Queen C' self.

"I mean, we all know that Faith's had a huge boner for Buffy since forever," the brunette Seer snickered. "And I'm sure being in an all-lady's prison only exaggerated her curving sexuality. Not that I have anything against lesbians," she was quick to assert. "But Buffy's a little boney for my tastes."

Angel raised his eyebrows at his employee but dared not interrupt. He knew the former beauty queen had far from finished her verbal tirade.

"How could Faith be so delusioned though?" Cordelia stared hard at her vampire employer. "I mean, so what if she's crushed on Buffy since the beginning of time? She can't expect there to be any kind of future there. They really should listen to your advice instead of blowing up and running out," the brunette noted. "I mean, a vampire and a human together? Sure they both have souls, but what's to keep a vampire with a human when she starts to age and get horribly saggy like a Sharpei puppy while they continue to look like a Greek god?" she exclaimed. "There's no amount of botox that can compete with immortality," she noted wistfully. "All the cosmetic surgery in the world couldn't keep up with that brooding goodness."

"Are we still talking about Buffy and Faith?" the soulled vampire asked quietly.

"Angel…I…" the former cheerleader started. Her face looked slightly flushed and she leaned in toward the broad-shouldered man. Maybe now wasn't the time to admit she had grown overly attached to her brooding employer. Especially now that Buffy was back.

The brunette woman stumbled briefly as the beginnings of a massive migraine unexpectedly stabbed her brain. The Powers that Be had horrible timing. Her arms flailed wildly as she reached out to catch herself on Angel's oversized wooden desk. Acting quickly, the undead man swooped in on the Seer before she could fall to the floor.

Bright white pain flooded Cordelia's brain and every fiber in her body felt like it was on fire. She had often humored herself that she'd get used to the visions and the partnered pain, but every new episode seemed more intense than the last. Cordelia did her best to memorize every detail that the Powers had decided to send her way. The human and the demonic faces. The neon flashes of signage. The sour smell of sewer. Everything was important.

She heard a muffled voice in the distance and after a few moments, as the connection to the PtB was severed and the ache in her cranium subsided, it became clearer. Angel was calling her name.

"Woooh," the bronzed beauty gasped. She touched her fingers to her nose when she felt wetness on her upper lip. Her nose had begun to bleed. The Californian grimaced. "That was a doozy."

"What was it, Cordie?" Angel implored. "What did you see?" He reached for the Kleenex box on his desk and handed the brunette a tissue. Cordelia dabbed at the blood and shakily stood up.

"Faith," the woman declared as she held her palm flat against her forehead. The front of her brain still throbbed. "I saw Faith. And…and she with Buffy."

"Where?" Angel pressed. "Did you see where they were?"

The woman narrowed her eyes slightly, thinking back to all the brief flashes of images the Powers had sent down to her. It was times like this when she wished they would just use a fax machine or something.

"I saw a red door. And a sign." She paused and closed her eyes trying to picture the letters on the door. "The Red Dragon," she said, opening her wide eyes again. "Does that sound familiar?"

The undead man frowned. "It's a demon bar downtown," he noted. "But it mostly only caters to vampires."

Cordelia flashed the soulled vampire a concerned look. "I saw…I saw…" She swallowed hard before continuing. "Buffy was feeding from Faith." The girl paused and looked stricken. "Angel…I think Faith was letting Buffy turn her."

Faith banged loudly on the non-descript metal door. She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her leather jacket and anxiously waited. The eye-level window screeched open and the familiar pair of blood-shot eyes appeared.

"Hey there, gorgeous," the bouncer leered. "You lost?"

Faith looked sourly at the hidden face. "Is she here?" she demanded with a sneer.

"I have no idea what you mean," the bar employee innocently admitted.

"Cut the shit, dude," the slayer growled. "You know who I'm talkin' about."

A rumbling chuckle floated out into the dank alley. "Listen girl, it's not my problem if that blonde chick found herself a new pet. I don't want any trouble in here." The vampire bouncer paused. "Fuck," he laughed. "Yes I do."

The metal window slammed noisily and after a series of clicks, the entrance to the demon bar swung open. Faith stepped into the club and glared at the bounce. "Took ya long enough," she spat.

The heavily tattooed bouncer raised a shaped eyebrow at the brunette. "Now don't start the show without me, sweetheart. I want a front row seat the next time that hot little tart bites a chunk outta you."

Faith gave the vampire a two-fingered salute before storming off deeper into the club. The Boston girl quickly descended the spiral staircase into the belly of the bar. She paused on the final step, letting her Slayer-senses adjust to that familiar, overwhelming itch that indicated vampires were near. Normally the instinctive radar was a faint twitch at the base of her spine, but with so many of the undead in such close proximity, it forced a wave of nausea to flood the dark slayer's senses. She paused momentarily until the vertigo passed.

As the dark-haired woman stomped closer to the bar, the vampire-induced unease was quickly replaced by something else. Jealousy. The Boston girl's eyes possessively narrowed when she spotted the familiar blonde cozy with a beefy-looking human. Buffy was feeding from someone else.

Not caring that her heavy boots echoed loudly against the concrete floor of the dank club, Faith made her way noisily towards her sister-Slayer. Buffy sat on a barstool at the bar. The formerly soulled vampire drank voraciously from the wrist of a man whose eyes were half-closed in pain and pleasure. The man was on his knees in front of the seated demon. Buffy's face was twisted into its vampyric visage and her eyes were focused on her victim's wrist, rather than her surroundings.

The thickly muscled man wore dirty jeans and a stained white t-shirt. His sandy-blonde hair was unruly and bite marks covered the insides of his forearms like a heroin junkie –

but vampires and pain were his drug of choice. Faith knew all too well the kinds of emotions he was experiencing. She shuddered slightly remembering what it felt like to have the blonde's fangs deep inside her flesh.

Noticing the newest bar patron, the bartender swept her yellow eyes over the dark slayer's tense form. Faith's balled fists clenched and unclenched at her sides as she watched Buffy feed from this anonymous junkie.

The vampire bartender snickered. "Looks like your Pet came to find you after all."

Buffy looked up suddenly and disengaged her canines from the built man's wrists. Her face instantly returned to its human form when she saw the brunette woman. The blonde vampire wiped at her mouth. "Faith," she breathed.

"Looks like you still have a thing for the thick, brainless types," Faith stated unemotionally.

The soulless vampire's eyes flicked briefly to her recent snack. "It's more of an acquired taste, really," she stated with a small smile. Her eyes returned to the taller slayer. "You know you're what I crave though, lover," she purred softly.

Buffy looked back at her prey, who was still on his knees in front of her. She placed a stilletto'd heel on his shoulder and kicked hard. The man fell hard backwards onto the dirty floor. She curled her lip in distain. "You can go now."

The man gave the vampire a wounded look as he pulled himself from off the ground and brushed at his already dirty jeans. Blood spilled down his arm from the forgotten wound. He lingered in his place and looked between Buffy and the newcomer with a silent hunger.

The blonde vampire quickly hopped off of her barstool and leaned in menacingly toward the man. Although she only came up to the stranger's chest, she looked dangerous and powerful. "Are you deaf?" she yelled. Buffy grabbed onto Faith's hand possessively as if to indicate that he had been replaced. "I said you can _go._"

The man grabbed a worn cordoruy jacket off of an adjacent barstool and made a hasty exit.

Buffy turned to face the brunette and stepped dangerously into her personal space. She wrapped her arms around the back of the taller woman's neck and pulled her in close. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you," she hummed contentedly.

Faith's body tensed and she looked anxiously around at the bar's other patrons. She felt dozens of eyes all staring at her, especially in light of the scene that had just transpired. "Can we go…someplace else?" the brunette asked.

Buffy's mouth flopped into a frown and she stuck out her bottom lip. "But this bar is _so much fun_, baby. Why would you want to go?" she lightly complained. "You just got here."

Faith stared hard at the demon. "We need to talk…about your offer."

Buffy dropped her arms from the younger woman and took a step backwards. "Well that was faster than I'd expected," she admitted. She raised a suspicious eyebrow. "This isn't a trick, is it?"

The Boston girl swallowed hard and shook her head. "No…I'm ready."

The vampire ran her tongue along her bottom lip and at the corners of her mouth. "Kiss me first," she instructed. "Then I'll believe you."

Faith sucked in air through her nostrils and pushed a long breath back out her lungs. She was acutely conscious that every deep breath she took might be one of her last. The Boston girl licked her full lips and placed her hands on the elder woman's jutting hipbones. She pulled her roughly toward her, causing their fronts to bump together.

Buffy's eyes visibly dilated as she looked up into the younger woman's face. "Mmm, Faith," she purred. "How did you know I liked it rough?"

The Boston girl crashed her mouth hard against the smaller slayer's open lips. Her tongue thrust into the cold cavern and wrestled with the vampire's own tongue. Hips and teeth and tongue battled for dominance in the middle of the sparsely populated demon bar.

Buffy clawed her polished nails against the back of Faith's thin top, raking her fingers along her feminine, yet powerful back. The Boston girl's hands traveled south to find the undead woman's perk backside. She cupped the perfectly shaped ass in her hands and pulled the smaller slayer's lower torso bruisingly closer. Cat-calls and hollers of appreciation filled the dark slayer's ears, but she didn't care.

She had made her decision, and for once, she was going to follow-through.

The dark convertible flew down the nearly empty streets of Los Angeles. Angel looked down at the car radio and grimaced as each passing minute seemed to taunt him. If Cordelia's visions were correct, he only had a few moments to spare in order to save the wayward slayer.

As his car screamed past the city-skyline like a neon blur, he cursed himself for allowing the two slayers to flit in and out of the Hyperion's front doors. He should have done something more than play the disapproving father when he first saw the bite marks on Faith's neck. He shouldn't have forbid Buffy from seeing the dark-haired girl; he should have known it would only make her want the Boston girl even more.

Angel raked his fingers through his rigidly gelled hair and looked back down at the clock.

He only hoped he would make it in time.

"Have you ever Turned anyone before?"

Faith looked alongside at the former slayer. The two women walked along a darkened alley a few hundred yards from the demon bar.

"I haven't, no," the blonde vampire admitted with a shrug. "I've done my research, though. But even if it doesn't work, I'll at least have a belly-full of Slayer."

The Boston girl tensed and gave the undead woman an uneasy glance.

"It's not exactly rocket science, Faith," the vampire chuckled as she continued along at her easy gate. "I bite you. You bite me. Then you die. And when you wake up, you'll be better than before. Dead," she admitted with an amused look on her pale face, "but definitely better than before."

When the Boston girl remained quiet, Buffy gave her an encouraging grin. "Trust me, Faith," she smiled and her step lightened. She threw her hands up toward the pale moon. "You'll never experience a rush like this. Being a vampire _and _a slayer?" she shook her head and giggled. "Plus," she continued excitedly, "if you thought our little romp between the sheets was hot before, just imagine what it'll be like when you and I are at equal strength again!"

Faith looked over at Buffy and then back down to her hands. She picked at her cuticles to give herself something to do. Was she really prepared for what she was about to do?

She set her jaw and gave herself a silent pep-talk. There was really only one option now.

"Where do you want to do this?" the Boston girl asked in a rough voice. Swallowing was becoming increasingly difficult as she felt her throat tighten with every step towards her Destiny.

Buffy stopped her walk and looked at the girl with a curious grin. "There's no place like the Present, don't you think?"

The dark-haired girl looked nervously around the dark alley. "You-you mean right here? R-right now?"

The elder slayer shrugged with one shoulder. "What? This isn't like you imagined it?" she asked with a coy smile. "Don't tell me you've gone all soft on me and were expecting white sheets and rose petals?"

Faith closed her eyes and shook her head. "No. You're right," she rasped sullenly. "It doesn't really matter where it happens." She opened her dark eyes again and stared longingly at the vampire. "The only thing that matters is that I do this before I change my mind."

The Californian's face transformed into its demonic visage. The moon high above them cast an eerie light on her normally angelic face, making her features look more exaggerated and frightening than usual. The soulless vampire flicked at the ends of her elongated canines with the tips of her tongue. "So you ready to get this party started, baby?" she asked around her enlarged teeth.

The dark-haired slayer swallowed hard and nodded. "I'm-I'm ready," she said shakily.

Buffy swabbed her tongue the length of her bottom lip. "This might hurt a little," she stated softly as she closed the distance between herself and the taller woman. The Boston girl leaned back slightly, but paused in her retreat when she felt the gentle touch at her neck. Buffy brushed the younger woman's unruly locks out of the way, sweeping them over her shoulder so that she had an unobstructed view of the taller woman's skin.

The vampire tenderly fingered the fresh wounds on Faith's neck. "Looks like you and I started the party early," she murmured smugly.

Faith sucked in a deep breath when she felt the vampire's mouth suddenly on her exposed neck. Buffy licked at the still-tender marks on Faith's neck, the tip of her tongue poking at the barely-healed scars. There was no familiar burst of air, however, like when a lover nuzzles seductively into your body. There was just an emptiness to the undead woman's closeness. And then suddenly a hot searing pain as the vampire sank her elongated teeth into the slayer's flesh.

The Boston girl moaned quietly when she felt Buffy's hands clamp tight on her arms. Her veins seemed to be opening all at once for the demon as if her body knew her intensions. Her blood rushed out in great bursts and gushes, and the vampire sucked hard so as not to spill any of the life-giving sustenance.

Faith screwed her eyes shut, yet felt the prickling of tears itching at the corners of her eyelids. She had been bit by this vampire before, but this felt different. Lost was the eroticism of Buffy branding her breast. Lost was the gentleness with which Buffy had previously handled her. Now she was only victim to an insatiable demon.

If one's life truly flashes before their eyes in the moments before they die, Faith mused as she felt herself slipping away, then her own life had been wholly insignificant. While others' minds might be filled with the faces of loved ones or fond memories, the raven-haired slayer's mind only contained a dark void.

The undead slayer disengaged her teeth from the weakening woman's neck. Buffy could feel the Boston woman's heartbeat faltering with each moment. She needed to time this right or the slayer would be wasted. Buffy wiped the blood from her lips with the back of her hand. She looked down at the trail of crimson on her pale skin with an amused grin.

"I knew you'd come around, Faithy," the blonde taunted quietly. "I knew you loved me."

The Californian released her tight hold on the taller woman momentarily so that she could slice her own wrist open for the faltering woman to feed from.

The dark-haired woman coughed roughly and with great pain. "You're wrong." Faith clenched her jaw muscles and ground her back teeth together. "I don't love you," she muttered. "I loved Buffy Summers."

With her last ounce of strength, the dark slayer reached into the waistband of her jeans.

Flashback

_Faith chewed thoughtfully on the dry Cheerios. _

_She didn't trust she was strong enough to defeat this vamped-up, former slayer. In hand-to-hand combat she didn't believe she could come out on top. She needed to lie. And she needed to do it convincingly so that she could finally end this. Faith didn't know what she would do with herself afterwards, if it even worked. But she loved Buffy too much to allow a soulless demon to continue wearing her body._

_Faith stood up from the small kitchenette table and opened the closet door in the entranceway to her apartment. The Boston girl rummaged briefly through her belongings, looking for a specific item. Her fingertips brushed against the familiar, polished wood and she pulled the weapon out of the closet. _

_The stake felt heavy in her hand as if it knew what she intended to do._

Killing Buffy was easier than Faith had expected.

Even though the blonde slayer was a new vampire, a part of Faith had anticipated that there would be some visible difference – something that set this kill apart from all the others – like when she had finally staked Kakistos and his body slowly crumbled around his rigid skeleton. Or like what she imagined killing the Master had been like for Buffy.

Buffy had been a kind of super vampire, Faith figured, being a former slayer and all, so it should look different. But when the wooden stake wormed its way past her ribcage and plunged into her unbeating heart, the undead slayer exploded into a cloud of dust just like any other vampire. Even the look of disbelief and shock plastered on her face just before her body exploded was the same.

Where her toned body had once stood was now just a thin pile of dust. Just like the hundreds of undead creatures the dark slayer had killed before.

The Boston girl fell hard to her knees and the wooden weapon fell from her lax hand. The rough concrete bit through the denim material of Faith's pants and cut into her raw skin. And then the dark-haired woman surrendered herself to unconsciousness.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Faith's POVSuggested Listening: "Kill the Lights (Rock Remix)" – Britney Spears

My hair whips around my face as I speed down the sparsely populated streets on my black motorcycle. The delicate package in my coat pocket feels bulky and I'm careful not to crush it anymore than I already have. I don't have a lot of time to waste. If I was any good at this kinda stuff I woulda planned on picking it up yesterday instead of waiting until the last minute. But in my defense, it's not like I've ever done this before.

I pull my bike into the driveway of the Revello Drive home and kick the stand down so my motorcycle doesn't topple over. I look up at the house and smile to myself. It still feels kind of surreal being here. Fuck, sometimes it feels surreal to still be _alive._

I push through the front door and pull off my heavy boots, setting them on the welcome mat in the foyer. I remember Joyce always tried to keep the house tidy, demons be damned, so I work hard to keep up that tradition. I tug the small, crushable plastic container from my pocket and set it on the wooden table just within the doorway.

"Faith?" a girlish voice calls out from upstairs. I've learned quickly that it's hard to sneak home undetected around this one. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, Dawn," I yell up the staircase. "You almost ready?"

"Just a few more minutes," she promises. If I were a bettin' kinda girl I'd wager she's still got a good half an hour of primping to go. I know how those Summers girls are when it comes to gettin' dolled up. Every hair must be in its place.

"Did you get it?" the brunette teenager bellows down to me. I still can't see her yet. She's probably standing in the bathroom, just staring at herself in the big vanity mirror. I guess I can't blame her for wanting to look perfect, though. It _is _a big day – for a teenager at least. And if anything, I've worked hard to give her some semblance of normality.

"Yeah," I yell. "It was one of the last ones, so don't blame me if it's a little crushed."

Her head pokes over the railing. "You didn't crush it on your bike, didn't you?" she asks, her face lined with worry.

"D," I soothe. "Don't worry about it, okay? It looks just fine."

Her head disappears again and I groan. Alright, maybe she's got more than another half an hour of primping. Seriously, how many times can you fix your make-up or flatiron your hair?

The doorbell rings behind me and I groan again, this time louder. "Dawn?" I call up the stairs again. "Your date is here!"

Her head pops out again. "Just a _few _more minutes," she uselessly promises. "Could you get that for me?" she pleads, batting her heavily mascara'd eyelashes at me. "And _don't _scare him!"

I grumble under my breath, but open the front door. Standing on the front porch is a gangly-looking kid whose lookin' mighty anxious. He looks stiff in his black tux like he's never worn one before, and he keeps shifting the plastic box with the corsage from one hand to the other.

"Ya gonna come in, or what?" I laugh after a few painful seconds.

The kid manages to squeak out a little smile of gratitude. "Oh, uh, thanks Ms. Lehane."

"It's Faith," I bark as the teen walks into the house. "How many times do I have to tell ya that, Tony?"

"S-sorry, Faith," the poor boy sputters. I like to give him a hard time, but he's a pretty harmless kid as far as teenage boys go.

"So the Prom, eh?" I leer as I close the door behind him. "Don't get any funny ideas, cause Dawnie's not like that."

His blue eyes are wide and I can tell he's afraid I'm gonna toss him out the front door. I might have done that the first time I caught them making out in the living room. "Not in _this _house," I had snarled as he went hurtling through the air. I didn't worry too much about tossin' him though; the grass on the lawn is soft and teenage boys always have a knack for bouncing.

I hear the sound of someone clearing their voice, interrupting me scaring Tony just a little more. We both look up towards the staircase and see Dawn making her grand entrance. She's wearing the strappy lilac-colored dress we spent hours upon hours looking for. If I never have to go dress shopping with her again, I'll be a happy camper. Her dark brown hair is flat-ironed just so, with half of it pinned up in one of those fancy updos you see in _Seventeen _or _YM. _She's a little wobbly coming down the staircase in the high-heels she insisted she was old enough to wear, but I'm not worried. She'll get used to 'em before the night is through.

"Y-You look great, Dawn," Tony bumbles next to me. I force back the snicker I can feel bubbling up in my throat. Like I said, the kid's not so bad as teenage boys go.

Dawn flushes pink a little from her date's stumbling compliment and then looks expectantly at me. My eyes search around the foyer frantically cause for the hell of me I can't remember where I put that stupid plastic box. When my eyes finally rest on the slightly crushed container, I grab it and shove it toward the brunette. Who woulda thought that Faith the bad ass Vampire Slayer would be pickin' up flowers for the Prom.

I watch anxiously as Dawn pins the boutonniere on the slightly taller teen's lapel. We practiced a few times beforehand, but I'm still nervous. The kid didn't exactly get Slayer grace, and I'm worried about Tony bleeding out all over the foyer rug. Xander just had it steam-cleaned.

"I know I said be home before sunset," I begin with a grimace. The two look up from their flower fumbling to glance over at me. I'm a little overprotective when it comes to this girl. "But you guys can stay out later tonight." I shrug, trying to not make a big deal about it. "I mean, how many times does a girl get to go to Prom, right?"

Dawn unexpectedly tosses her arms around me and squeals in excitement. "Oh my God! Thank you, Faith!" The kid's got a set of lungs on her, that's for sure. I might be deaf now in my left ear.

I squeeze her back a little when the ringing in my ears subsides. "Yeah, yeah," I mumble. "Just be safe, okay?" I pause, thinking maybe I should keep the next thought to myself, but I can't help it when the words stumble out: "They would have been so proud of you," I murmur in her ear.

Dawn leans back from the hug, and I can see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. I don't have to say who "they" are, because she knows I mean her mom and Buffy.

So here's the part of the story where I tell you what happened.

That night, about three months ago now, Angel found me just in time – before I died from loss of blood, that is. But not before I had dusted the vampire-in-Buffy-clothing. He told me later that Cordelia had received a vision that she'd interpreted as me being turned by Buffy, so he'd raced over to the Red Dragon to find me. I don't think the Powers were fooled though. I think they just needed Angel over there as my backup, knowing that I'd be in no shape afterwards.

I was hospitalized for a few weeks because of my injuries and my mental instability. Since I'd been in the hospital so recently due to blood loss, the doctors were worried I was a suicide risk. It's probably a good thing they were so cautious with me because who knows what I would have done if they'd released me after my physical wounds had healed. I was wicked messed up for a while. Lost large chunks of time and all that.

Angel, Cordelia, and the rest of the Los Angeles gang came to visit me everyday while I was in the ICU and then later in the psych ward. Gotta give them a whole lotta credit. If any of them had been as bitchy and reckless as I had, I don't think I woulda been jumpin' on the Get Well Soon bandwagon like they all did. And Angel and I had some really deep conversations about everything in my cell of a room. About Life. About Love. About Loss. But mostly about Buffy.

He wasn't upset with me for…for killing her. Once I told him that she'd lost her soul again, he looked almost relieved. He gave me a tight hug, which is totally not like him, and told me how strong I had been to be able to do what he wouldn't have been man enough to do. And he said something to me that blew my mind at the time – he said what I did proved that I loved her more than he ever did.

I was released from the temporary mental ward after I'd convinced the doctors I wasn't gonna Off myself. Then word got back to us at the LA office that Willow had gone off the magical deep end. After the major fuck-up with Buffy and the vampire juice, Red got swallowed up by magic. Really dark shit, too from what I hear.

She became obsessed with finding a way to bring Buffy back the right way, and Tara dumped her. That made it even worse, and from what Xander tells me, they nearly lost her. I hear Willow's doing okay now though; she's in England with a coven there helping her wean herself off of the dark stuff. Magic rehab, I guess.

Once it was clear that Willow wasn't coming back for a while, what was left of the Scoobs persuaded me to come back to Sunnydale. They weren't so much concerned about watching the Hellmouth, but more worried about Dawn. Giles and Xander are still here, of course, but neither of them was really equipped to take care of a teenage girl. I mean, not that I am either, but at least I don't blush a million shades of red when the kid runs out of tampons.

So I'm back to fighting the good fight. Back to protecting the Hellmouth and being one of the good guys. And you might ask yourself why I'm doing it – why I would come back to this town filled with so many miserable memories.

Because I know it's what Buffy would have wanted.

"Uh, so should we go?" Dawn's prom date squeaks out uncomfortably. I let go of Dawn and she gives me a really watery smile. Shit. Now I think _I _might start crying too.

I shoo them away with my hands before the waterworks starts and everyone's mascara is ruined. "Everybody out!" I bellow, not wanting them to see how all this bonding has turned me softer than a marshmallow.

I walk the young couple out the front door and holler out s'more threats to Dawn's date, just to make myself feel better. "I mean it, Tony," I call out from my position on the front porch. "Keep your hands to yourself, or I'll arrange for your hands to be physically removed from your stubby little arms."

Dawn flashes me a look of warning and I give her a dimpled grin in return. Sometimes this 'parenting' stuff is hella fun. Her date looks wicked uneasy as he opens the door for Dawn, and she slides into the passenger side of his parent's Buick.

I lean against the door jam and give a curt nod when I see Dawn waving spastically back up at me. She's a good kid. Awkward as hell, and all kinds of whiney at times, but she's got a good soul.

As I watch the two pull out of the driveway and slowly crawl down the street and out of sight, I fish around in the one of the potted plants for my hidden pack of cigarettes and lighter. Dawn hates that I smoke. It's the one last vice I've got though, so I try to be sneaky about it. I'll have the occasional drink once in a while, but Jack Daniels and I aren't as familiar friends as we used to be. And I can't remember the last time I had someone in my bed…No, I take that back. I can, but I'm not ready to really think about her in the past tense just yet.

I'm not gonna pull your leg and say that all of this is easy.

Slaying, saving the world? That's the easy part – that just comes naturally.

But Life? That's a battle that tests me like no apocalypse can.

A very smart woman once said that the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. And when I'm laying alone in her old bedroom at night is when it hits me the hardest. You might think me a masochist for staying in her room instead of Mrs. S's old digs, but I do what I can to keep her alive, at least in my mind.

Because there's one thought – one _truth _– that gets me through the days and makes this Hell a little less painful.

Because I know now.

I know that Buffy loved me.

FIN


End file.
